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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28533366">The Phasewalker: Playing with Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultiverseFantasy/pseuds/MultiverseFantasy'>MultiverseFantasy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Phasewalker Saga [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Afterlife, Angels, Death, Demonic Possession, Demons, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Grim Reapers, Magic, Multiverse, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Poltergeists, Superheroes, Supernatural Elements, Teenage Drama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:54:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>55,253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28533366</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultiverseFantasy/pseuds/MultiverseFantasy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson might be the Reaper now, but he still has a lot to learn about his powers.<br/>But how do you teach someone they're immortal? How do they learn to separate their mortal life from their supernatural one? And how do you kill a man who is already dead?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Phasewalker Saga [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>https://www.pwpresents.co.uk/</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Doctor, your one o'clock is here."</p><p>Thank you, send him in.</p><p>…</p><p>Hello, please take a seat. My name is Doctor John Michaels, and you are… Jackson White?</p><p>
  <em>That's right.</em>
</p><p>So, what would you like to talk about?</p><p>
  <em>I'm not entirely sure. I'm really sure why I'm even here.</em>
</p><p>You booked this appointment Mr White. You tell me.</p><p>…</p><p>Let's start with the basics then. Tell me a little bit about yourself.</p><p>
  <em>Okay. My name's Jackson White. I live locally here in Ilkeston. I study animation at the University of Derby. I have both my parents, a younger brother and sister, a few friends I'm close to. Some I'd rather to be… What's the point of this?</em>
</p><p>To break the ice, get you talking. I know coming to a therapist can be confronting but I find it's very beneficial to talk things out at your own pace.</p><p>
  <em>So I don't actually need to say anything?</em>
</p><p>No, you don't. But you are paying for the hour and it would seem like a waste to spend it in silence. But that would be up to you.</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>Alright. What do you want to know?</em>
</p><p>What brought you to my door today?</p><p>
  <em>Everyone keeps saying I need to speak to someone professional. They all think I need therapy.</em>
</p><p>And do you think you need help?</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>Maybe.</em>
</p><p>So would you need help?</p><p>
  <em>You know why.</em>
</p><p>I want to hear it from you.</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>A couple of weeks ago, I was in a… accident.</em>
</p><p>You don't like that word?</p><p>
  <em>It's what everyone keeps calling it. An Accident? It makes it sound almost trivial.</em>
</p><p>How would you word it?</p><p>
  <em>I was stabbed. I walked into an alley in the middle of Derby and was attacked, stabbed in the chest with a knife. I was left to die in the cold and dark street. I thought I had died.</em>
</p><p>But you didn't. It must've been traumatic for you.</p><p>
  <em>I was in hospital of a week. Also in a coma for half of it.</em>
</p><p>How much of the attack do you remember?</p><p>
  <em>Not a lot. I found out after I woke up it was a boy called Zachery Helmsley who had killed me. And then he launched an attack on my university and was responsible for killing multiple people, all while trying to kill my friends. They're okay thankfully.</em>
</p><p>This attack bothers you.</p><p>
  <em>I just never thought Zac could do something this extreme.</em>
</p><p>But it didn't surprise you?</p><p>…</p><p><em>It's complicated.</em> <em>There was always something…off about him. I saw a lot of me in his character, tried to be his friend I suppose. But he had an unhealthy hatred for the world and everyone in it. So no, I wasn't surprised he snapped. I was just shocked at how extreme he became.</em></p><p>How did you feel when you discovered he'd been killed himself?</p><p>
  <em>Relieved.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sorry, made me sound cold. Not relieved, just… I'm just glad Kassie and the others are safe, even if that meant Zac had to be killed.</em>
</p><p>And being the man responsible for putting you in hospital, it must've felt good.</p><p>
  <em>I'll admit there was a small moment where it felt like justice had been done. But that doesn't mean I wanted him to die.</em>
</p><p>Do you wish you were the one to have taken his life?</p><p>…</p><p>Very well, let's change the subject. How has your life been since the attack?</p><p>
  <em>Okay. Complicated, but fine. My parents were, for obvious reasons, supportive but suddenly overprotective. I don't blame them, I'd be the same if it was my kid. I'm sure if my mom was allowed to, she'd wrap me up in cotton wool and keep me locked in my room. But she understands I need to be allowed to get back to normal. So leave, almost every day, just to get back outside and remind myself I can handle it. But I can see the panic in her eyes whenever I leave, hear the worry in her voice. It breaks my heart to make her worry that much, but I can't… I need to be out here.</em>
</p><p>Why? Why is it important to be out in the world?</p><p>
  <em>Because I don't want to be terrified anymore! With every step I take, I'm afraid. I looking in every shadow, around every corner, I'm scared all the time. I freeze whenever I come face to face with people, thinking I'm in danger all the time. I don't want to keep feeling like this. I don't want to be afraid.</em>
</p><p>Is that why you think you need help? Is that why you came here?</p><p>
  <em>Yes.</em>
</p><p>…</p><p>Then let us begin.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1</p><p>Debra White was a patient woman. People say she's a patient woman. She likes to think she's a patient woman. But the truth is, the cost of that patience is undeniable fear.</p><p>That fear was something she was familiar with. It's the fear every parent has for their children. She has three children; two boys and a girl. She was afraid for her children. She feared for them every day from the moment they were born. Every time they went out of the house, went to school, went out alone, she feared for them like every parent does. Over time she learnt to trust them and their neighbourhood, learnt to believe that they would be alright and would come home safe. But that didn't stop her fearing for them.</p><p>Her greatest fear came to be sixteen days ago when she got a knock on her front door. Her husband was at work, having left several hours earlier. Two of her children were also in the house, one downstairs and the other still in bed. She walked through the house towards the door, muttering to herself expecting it to be a door-to-door salesman. But instead she was greeted by a pair of police officers dressed in high-visibility uniforms, equipment and handcuffs and walkie-talkies strapped to their vest and waist. The middle-aged mother looked up at the two of them in surprise, asking politely what brought them here. It only took them two minutes to bring her world crashing around her as they informed her of her eldest son's <em>accident</em>.</p><p>The weekend went by in a blur after that. First she called her husband, who got permission to leave work early to drive his family to Derby. Then she had to find her son, who was lying in a coma in a hospital ward. It was a long journey and she had almost convinced herself the police were mistaken, that it wasn't her son in that hospital bed. But the second she was inside the room, her eyes fell onto his body and her heart broke. The police told her that Jack was the victim of a mugging and was mortally wounded. The doctors told her that it was unlikely he would wake again, informing her that the only option left to her was to switch of the life-support. She didn't want to give up on her son, but her husband convinced her there wasn't any point in waiting any longer. There was no way to save him. So with a heavy heart, the family allowed the doctors to unplug the machines and say their goodbyes. However, that's when the heart-monitor started beeping again. His heart was beating and he was breathing on his own. He was alive. It was a miracle.</p><p>She was so happy and hopeful she didn't leave his bedside until he opened his eyes. He was so glad to see her and she was delighted so see him awake. The nightmare was over. He came home a few days later, after hours of tests and observations, he was given the all clear. However, now Debra had to fight every paternal instinct telling her to wrap him up in cotton wool and keep him safe at home. Her eldest was twenty years old, a grown man now, meaning she couldn't expect him to stay at home all day. Which is the last thing he seems to do anymore. He leaves the house every day, either to attend therapy as recommended by the doctor or going to visit his friends, such as Troy. It pained her to hear him leave, each time terrified she'll get another knock on the door from the police. But she forced herself to remain calm. She knew her son would be careful now, he wouldn't wish to repeat the experience. And she figured it was good for him, going out on his own, proving to himself he could handle the outside world again. He proved to be very resilient during this whole ordeal. But that didn't mean she didn't set ground rules. He had to keep his phone on at all times and be home for tea every day. He was happy to submit to those terms to keep her happy. But that didn't stop him from pushing the envelope every so often.</p><p>Like today, she was in the process of dishing up dinner when she realised he hadn't come home yet. Rather than panic she simply got her mobile phone and dialled his number. She'll be okay as long as he answered. Which, thankfully, he did. "Where are you? I'm dishing out dinner now" she said immediately, hiding the fear in her voice.</p><p>"I'm on my way back now mom" her eldest reported. He sounded short of breath over the phone. "I'm just coming across the canal now."</p><p>"Where have you been today?" she asked, knowing he didn't have an appointment with his therapist today. But if he was on the canal then he must've been visiting Troy Anderson. They had been friends for years and he liked to pay him a visit every so often.</p><p>Sure enough, that's where he said he'd been. "Just dropped in to say hi. I couldn't stay long though, he had work to do. I won't be long, I promise."</p><p>She nodded relieved, returning to her preparations, happy that her boy was safe. "Okay" she replied smiling. "How far away are you?"</p><p>"Um…not far" he lied.</p><p>
  <em>Just the opposite side of the English Channel.</em>
</p><p>Jackson White knew he was on the clock the moment his mother called. He'd agreed to the unofficial curfew to put her mind at ease. He knew she was still shaken from his near-death experience. He couldn't imagine how she was holding it together. But he knew if she learnt the real reason he went out every day she might literally lock him in his room. Not that being locked up would make a difference.</p><p>The bright yellow light of the sun beat down on the white buildings as Jack sprinted across them, hopping from one roof to the next, following the path of chaos charging through the streets below. People scattered and screamed in French as the creature barged between them, knocking them into market stalls and shop windows, roaring angrily as the reaper chased it from above.</p><p>"Okay, I'll be back soon" he said calmly into his phone, leaping over a balcony and phasing into the building, landing awkwardly in the lower floors to intercept the beast. "I love you" he added breathlessly.</p><p>"I love you too" the voice on the phone replied before he hung up. He slid his mobile into his jean pocket and picked up the pace. He had to catch this demon and fast.</p><p>Following the creature's path, Jack ran perpendicular to it through walls and windows, phasing in and out of limbo to avoid obstacles and keep a straight line. He was getting the hang on his phasing powers, now able to slid through solid matter like he was intangible, finding the middle point between dimensions without crossing over. Prolonged use made him lightheaded, but the method helped him keep pace with the demon.</p><p>The creature itself was supposed to be a run of the mill demon hunt. It was one of the leftovers from when Marcus was attacked. Dozens of entities and creatures slipped out into the mortal realm while the reaper was on his death-bed. Azrael and his wraiths were able to mop up most, but a few were still at large. This demon had been stalking the farmland several miles east of here, only now it's entered the city. Fortunately it was an herbivore. Rare for a spawn of hell, but it wouldn't hesitate to rip into anyone it thought was a threat. Jack had floated the option of leaving it in the fields to gaze in peace, but Azrael noted humanity's obsession with hunting mythical creatures. Sooner or later it would start killing again. (Also, it was the principle of leaving a demon roaming in the mortal world.)</p><p>Approaching the corner, Jack sprung in front of the demon, skidding to a stop in its path. This demon resembled a wild boar, but was three times as big with four massive tusks, six eyes all trained on him. It squawked loudly, charging forward to trample the young man.</p><p>Jack didn't flinch. Since making his first appointment with the therapist for real he'd learn to control his fight and flight responses. Now, while he was still terrified of being killed, he was able to hide it. He didn't freeze any longer.</p><p>Whipping out his sword he sidestepped the demon, stabbing the blade into the top of its skull killing it instantly. Seconds later the beast collapsed into a puddle as its skin began melting away into sludge. That sludge then evaporated into gas that lifted into the sky and blew away in the wind. The monster was gone, sent back to hell where it belonged.</p><p>Hunting those demons were getting easier with each mission. Jack barely broke a sweat chasing this one as he sheathed his sword. The civilians all looked at him in fear, but they couldn't see his face beneath the wide brimmed hat he was wearing, the collar of his jacket up to obscure his features. Not the most convincing disguise, but it wasn't like anyone in this city would recognise him. He gazed down the street, blissfully taking in the iconic view of the Eiffel Tower hovering over the city like a beacon, enjoying the scenery for a moment longer. Then, with a tip of his hat, he stepped into Limbo and left the people in peace.</p><p>Moments later there was a <em>boom</em> as Jack landed in the grey landscape of Limbo, walking forward to phase into the alleyway leading to his back gate. He stepped through it and quickly brushed the ash and dust off his clothes, removing his hat to greet his mom in the kitchen where she had just finished putting the food out. The rest of the family joined them. "There you are!" Debra called embracing him. "You were cutting it close today" she remarked.</p><p>"I know" he apologised. "I lost track of time."</p><p>"How was Troy?" his brother asked him. "If that's really where you went."</p><p>Jack ignored the remark and sat down, relaxing his shoulders as he settled in for a nice family meal. "He's fine" he lied, feeling rather guilty for having to hide what he was really up to. "Everything's fine" he added, choosing to finish the day with at least one truthful thing to say.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>2</p><p>Now that the bull demon was taken care of, things were quiet in the fortress to Well of Souls. The obsidian fortress floating in the centre of the multiverse, orbiting a swirling sentient vortex of cosmic energy, was now silent drifting through the void of space. Within its walls the inhabitants settled back with a sigh of relief. They'd been working around the clock cataloguing all the anomalies on the realm map, every blip in the mortal world accounted for at last. It took them all weekend, longer given that the fortress sat just outside of time and space. But with Azrael locking down the breaches with his wraiths, Freya coordinating the effort from the throne and Jack in the field chasing down entities, they were finally able to clean up the chaotic mess left behind after Marcus's departure.</p><p>Jackson proved to be a really competent reaper now that he was willing to go out and do his part. Weeks of training prepared him for this moment, but it wasn't until a few days ago when he would voluntarily go on missions and help secure the mortal realm. Since then he proved to be a fast learner, able to pick up tricks and tactics minutes after either of the angels relayed them. He still refused to carry his scythe however, preferring to fight with the familiar sword. Azrael was still perturbed by this, but he couldn't fault the boy's growing talent to do the job.</p><p>They were waiting for him when he finally returned back to the fortress, emerging out of the Soul-Bridge without a single stumble. He had grown accustomed to the dimensional travel and could use it like jumping from one ledge to the next. Azrael was once more sitting at his throne, double checking the telepathic monitors hovering around them. Freya stood next to him, turning to greet the reaper with a smile as always. Jack walked straight into the observation deck and proclaimed "I was in Paris!"</p><p>"We know" Azrael replied without addressing him directly. "We sent you there to collect the last of the unsanctioned entities that slipped through to the mortal realm while Marcus was indisposed. With it disposed of, all of the escaped spirits, demons and entities are finally accounted for."</p><p>"I was <em>in </em>Paris" Jack repeated, crossing his arms as he stared up at the multiverse floating over their heads. "I've never been to Paris before."</p><p>Azrael sighed as he glanced reluctantly over his shoulder. "What's your point?" he asked, regrettably.</p><p>"The point?" he chuckled. "I've only been out of the country once in my entire life. Now I've visited France, been to its capital city, the most romantic city in the world. Or one of them at least. And I spent that visit demon-hunting. Five minutes, in and out and back home for tea. I didn't even get a chance to smell the roses."</p><p>"I'm sorry if it was underwhelming" Freya said as she came over to join Jack, who was still standing in the middle of the chamber.</p><p>"That's the problem, it wasn't" he told her. "In the moment I had to look around, it was breath-taking. Stunningly beautiful. I just didn't have enough time to explore by myself. Now my first visit is ruined."</p><p>Freya gave him a sympathetic look. "You could always go back" she reminded him. "You're the Phasewalker now. You can go wherever you want, whenever you want."</p><p>"I know. But it's no fun going anywhere on your own" he pouted. He was speaking from experience, notoriously going to many events solo and then sulking about the fact he had nobody to share the experience with. "Nobody visits Paris alone" he echoed.</p><p>The young angel was thoughtful for a moment before offering "maybe I could go with you?"</p><p>Jack blinked, snapping his head back to look at her. "Really?" he asked curiously. She offered him a smile, about to explain she'd always wanted to visit the mortal realm outside of the mission too.</p><p>However, the pair were interrupted by Azrael, who stood up and marched between them. "Or, you could focus on your duties. Both of you" he growled, looking at each of them in turn. "We might've cleaned up the mess left in Marcus' wake, but creation is always under threat. And you still have much to learn."</p><p>Jack sighed, crossing his arms again as he looked up at the large man. "Such as?"</p><p>"Speed" he replied. "You're still taking too long to apprehend and dispatch your targets. Even the simple act of killing demons is taking you longer than necessary."</p><p>"You're lucky I'm killing anything at all" he muttered under his breath. After the fight with the flesh monster a week ago he'd been hesitant to allow himself to get into a habit of killing his enemies. He didn't want to be a murderer, something which led to many arguments with Azrael about the duty of the Grim Reaper. Eventually Jack opted for a compromise; only kill the monsters or demons that are too dangerous to be left alive, those who are an immediate threat to other people. Harmless spirits can be ejected to limbo without harm. So far he'd been doing well, no innocent casualties to date.</p><p>"You might be applying your abilities now" Azrael continued, "but you still need to hone your technique. Keep training and you'll keep getting stronger and faster."</p><p>"Bear with me, I've only had this job for five minutes" Jack snapped.</p><p>The Angel of Death stood in front of Jackson, regarding him with his trademark gaze that illustrated his disappointment. "Marcus had progressed further in your training in half the time it's taken you."</p><p>"Marcus had his own mentor" he reminded him. "I'm stuck with you."</p><p>The larger man growled, taking a warning step forward, prompting Freya to jump between them before they could start fighting again. "What Jack means is that he didn't have Marcus to train him like Marcus had his predecessor" she said frantically. "I'm sure he didn't mean any offence."</p><p>She quickly glanced back at the boy, her eyes convincing him to apologise immediately. "No, of course not" he said, taking a step back. "You're a fine teacher."</p><p>Azrael glared at the boy, huffing loudly before turning away. "I understand your frustrations kid" he growled. "I'd prefer if Marcus was here to train you instead of me too. But he's not, so you're stuck with Me." He marched towards the exit, leaving the two of them on the observation deck alone. "Go home for the night" he called over his shoulder. "We'll pick this up tomorrow morning."</p><p>Jack and Freya stood side by side until the man was out of sight before releasing a simultaneous sigh. "I thought he was going to kill you for a moment" she said quietly.</p><p>"Be a hell of a way to prove I'm not immortal" he chuckled. He glanced over to the blonde haired young woman, telling her softly "You didn't need to get in his way."</p><p>"I'm just sick of you two fighting all the time" she replied.</p><p>Now Jack felt bad. He knew he had a bad temperament to argue with people he disagreed with, but he forgot to consider those caught in the middle. That was usually his role so he knew how awkward and worrying it can be. "I'm sorry" he said to her.</p><p>She nodded, accepting his apology. "Just because Marcus was further in his training doesn't mean he was better" she said politely. "You'll get there. You are getting better. It wasn't even difficult for you to take out that demon, was it?"</p><p>He had to admit she was right. "I suppose. And my phase-walking is improving to. I think I passed through twelve walls without even trying today."</p><p>"See. You are getting stronger. And if you want, I could time your next mission for you so you can improve that too."</p><p>He nodded, liking the idea. "Okay" he said thoughtfully. "If I can beat my best time, whatever that is, I get a day off to go visit Paris without interruption."</p><p>Freya considered it. "Okay, but only if I get to go with you" she countered.</p><p>Jack shrugged. "Deal."</p><p>"Then it's a date" she said, clapping her hands before racing off towards the exit. "See you tomorrow Jack" she called back, disappearing out of sight.</p><p>Jack waved her goodbye with a smile on his face. But the moment she was gone his smile suddenly faded away as he felt his chest tighten. He froze as he felt an ice-pick stab through his heart, the image of another blonde haired young woman with sparkling grey eyes materialising from his memory. <em>It's a date.</em> Freya's innocent words triggered something in Jackson that made the dark storm clouds hovering around his mind feel thick and heavy. <em>Of all the places I would want to visit, it had to be the most romantic.</em> A part of him always imagined going to a place like Paris, but it wasn't Freya he saw himself taking.</p><p>He shook his head, chasing away the storm and memory and burying the stabbing pain in his chest. He had to accept the fact that some things just can't happen, no matter how much you wanted them to. So, with a heavy heart, Jack made his way back to the Soul-Bridge to return home for the night.</p><p>Yet, with every step, the memory of Kassie L'amahle was never far behind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>3</p><p>He was on his way home when this mobile phone rang.</p><p>The grey landscape of limbo stretched in every physical and metaphysical direction as Jackson walked along the floating platforms mimicking the mortal realm he was following alongside. This nexus dimension was always unstable and incalculable, changing with each passing second and shown to be perceived differently from one individual to the next. One person could step into this realm and experience the journey down the river Styx, similar to Greek mythology. Another might see ghosts of their loved ones waiting for them as they head to the light. In Jack's case, he saw limbo in its base form, an evolving realm of space and realities acting as the barrier between universes. And now he was a Phasewalker, he could see the thin walls dividing this realm with the multiverse around him.</p><p>He paced along an empty street in the middle of this world, enjoying the calm stillness in the muted air, before he was interrupted by the ringtone of his mobile echoing off the platforms. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, reading the caller ID before answering. "Hello, Ghost Hunters International. How can we assist you?" he said in greeting.</p><p>"Hi, yeah, I'm calling about a friend of mine" the voice on the other end replied immediately. "I haven't heard from him in a few days. I was hoping he could join me for a drink, but I fear he's been dead for a few weeks."</p><p>"I thought I was the funny one" Jack replied with a chuckle.</p><p>"You try to be" his best friend shot back laughing.</p><p>Troy Anderson was similarly walking down an empty street, this one safely in the mortal realm in the town of Ilkeston. He was in a calm and chipper mood after getting off a long shift at his brothers company, the only job he was able to get a hold of at the moment. It wasn't spectacular but it was better than nothing. To blow off steam he was on his way to the pub, which his other brother also owns. "So" he continued, talking to Jack through his phone, "drink. Interested?"</p><p>"Not tonight" Jack said. "I need to get back home before certain members get suspicious."</p><p>"You're mother, I'm guessing?" Troy guessed.</p><p>"Brother, actually. So I'm afraid I'll have to skip tonight."</p><p>Troy heard the tell-tale hitch in his voice, indicating Jack was distracted. "You okay?" he asked. Sometimes he thought he could get a PHD in reading his best friend at this point.</p><p>Jack predictably hesitated. "I'm fine" he said unconvincingly.</p><p>"You sound distracted" he clarified.</p><p>"I've just got a lot on my mind" Jack reluctantly answered.</p><p>"Afterlife related, or personal?" Troy queried.</p><p>Jack was reluctant to answer. "I'm not sure" he said quietly.</p><p>Troy, somehow, was able to read his reluctance and made a deduction. "Kassie?"</p><p>Jack came to a stop in the middle of his street. "How the hell could you know that?"</p><p>"You're more predictable than you think you are" he replied. "Do you want to talk about it?"</p><p>Jack considered it, but decided "not tonight. Some other time?"</p><p>Troy sighed. That meant it'll be days before he gets him to open up about his love life again. But he knew better than to push it. "Alright mate. Call me if you change your mind" he said, but he knew he wouldn't even if he did.</p><p>"I'll be fine" he replied. "Go and enjoy your drink. We'll talk soon." And with that, he hung up the phone and walked on. If he'd chosen that moment to phase out of limbo and into the mortal realm, he would've walked straight into Troy as he walked in the opposite direction.</p><p>Instead, Troy found himself colliding with a different person entirely just outside <em>The</em> <em>Acorn</em>. The two of them both attempted to enter the building at the same time, resulting in getting jammed in the small doorway. "Hey, watch where you're going!" the other man shouted, pushing Troy out of the way. He stumbled back, glaring at him angrily as he saw the man appeared to be a year older than him, pronounced stubble on his chin in the form of a goatee, his short black hair combed back from his grizzled face. He was wearing a dark jacket and dark red top over jeans and trainers.</p><p>The moment they looked at each other their expressions froze into surprise. "Troy?" the man said, grinning broadly. "Holy shit! I didn't see you."</p><p>Troy broke into a smile as he brushed himself off. "I wasn't looking where I was going" he said apologetically. "Sorry about that."</p><p>"Oh, don't worry about it" he said dismissively, clapping him on the shoulder. "How have you been?"</p><p>"Not bad Brodey" he replied.</p><p>Brodey Harrison was a face Troy never thought he'd see again. He was one of the many people he'd been friends with back when they were in school, alongside Jackson, before they all went their separate ways. He was an aspiring engineer and last Troy heard, he'd been working at a car dealership. He thought he'd moved out of this town by now, but was glad to have been wrong.</p><p>"How long has it been?" Brodey pondered. "Four years? You haven't aged well."</p><p>"You're one to talk" Troy laughed, gesturing to his unshaven face. Brodey ran a proud hand over his stubble, laughing broadly. "What are you doing here?" he asked.</p><p>"Getting a drink after a hard day's work" he shrugged, pointing into the pub. "Care to join me?"</p><p>Tory looked into the bright interior and shrugged. "Why not? I was coming here anyway. I'm in need of a drinking buddy."</p><p>"Good man" Brodey said loudly, guiding them both inside. "So what have you been up to? Anything interesting happen in the last four years?"</p><p>"Nothing you would believe" he replied grinning as they both approached the bar.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>4</p><p>The rest of the evening was quiet. Quiet enough that Jackson took the opportunity to go to bed early and get some sleep. His new job took up a lot of his day, either from gruelling training or running snatch and grab missions, so he didn't get a lot of free time left over to sleep. Some days he was even forced to sneak out of the house at night and return in the early hours before his parents noticed he was missing. Unfortunately, Jackson's new powers are still adapting to his living body so he still required sleep to function. Azrael assures him that as he grows stronger, his immortality will negate his need to sleep, eat or drink. Until then, Jack was exhausted.</p><p>He was asleep for maybe an hour before the telepathic link woke him up. He sat up sharply as his head lit up in alarm, groaning in annoyance as Freya's voice echoed inside his mind. "Jack, are you there?"</p><p><em>Just one night. That's all I ask for</em>, he sighed. "What?" he replied angrily?</p><p>"Sorry, did I disturb you?" Freya asked, unaware of what she'd done wrong. "But we need you to come back to the Well."</p><p>"Is it important" he asked.</p><p>"Very."</p><p>He sighed in frustration, quickly getting dressed and phasing back into Limbo to take a Soul-Bridge back to the fortress.</p><p>When he gets there, Azrael is sitting at his throne staring at a large holographic image of a map, screens of data flowing at his sides. Freya stood on the opposite side of this map, her grey wings stretching out behind her, her blue eyes looking up to wave Jack over to join them. "This had better be good" he muttered as he walked over, still in a mood from being woken up.</p><p>"There's a spirit rampaging through Limbo" Azrael briefed him, interlocking his fingers watching the live feed of the dimension as the highlighted entity flees through the wasteland.</p><p>Jack stared at him. "You called me out of bed to do a job your own wraiths could've handled" he snapped.</p><p>"You were asleep?" Freya asked in surprise.</p><p>"Early night" he said. Now the young angel felt guilty about waking him up.</p><p>Azrael looked back at the reaper, bluntly stating "we called you out of bed to do a job that three teams of my best wraiths <em>failed </em>to do."</p><p>The air between the pair of them grew tense as Jack froze. They had his attention now. Azrael's wraiths were handpicked after their death by the Angel of Death himself, trained day and night to be his army, his elite, and guardians to guide souls to the Well so they can pass over. If a spirit overcame them, they were a dangerous force to be reckoned with. Dangerous enough to warrant the attention of the Grim Reaper.</p><p>"This spirit is powerful" Azrael continued. "Which isn't surprising, given the type of entity we are dealing with."</p><p>"What's so special about this one?" he asked.</p><p>"Not all souls who pass through limbo are peaceful" Freya explained. "Most are just lost or pure, waiting to be judged and sent back into the Well or cast back into limbo, except for the occasional bad egg that we send straight to Hell. But every so often we get a soul so corrupted it becomes more powerful in death than it was in life. Mortals have given them different titles over the years, the most common being a <em>poltergeist</em>, but they are strong enough to haunt areas around limbo and affect the mortal realm."</p><p>"Like that spirit I chased down last week?" Jack interrupted, referring to that ghost that had been haunting his hometown attracted to monsters.</p><p>"That was a minor ghost. Perfectly harmless and unable to interact with mortals. But Poltergeists can be heard by mortals and they can pick up and throw objects. They've been known to even cause people's deaths. Most of these malevolent souls tend to come through here with a one way ticket to Hell, so they break loose and wreak havoc across limbo instead."</p><p>"The problem is" Azrael interrupted impatiently, "this one has grown too powerful. Its astral energy indicates it could potentially break through the reality barrier and escape into the land of the living."</p><p>"It can do that?" Jack squeaked. "How evil do you need to be for that to be a factor?"</p><p>"It's happened before" Freya said. "I checked the records taken at the moment of his death. According to this, the soul used to be a serial arsonist who burnt down his parents' house when he was thirteen…while they were still inside."</p><p>Jack's gaze rose up to hers and he could see the uneasiness in her features. She wasn't kidding and it made her sick to her stomach. <em>Human potential at its worst</em>, he mused silently. "I take it this was the start of a rather illustrious career in pyrotechnics?"</p><p>She nodded sickly. "All the way to his death, where he set himself on fire to escape arrest from the police swat team." Her face turned a worrying shade of green before she added "it says he laughed all the way to the other side."</p><p>Now it was Jack's turn to feel sick, the image of the madman's laughing visage conjured by his imagination. If this poltergeist was anything like its living counterpart, the coming fight was going to be a doozy. But something else grabbed his attention from that explanation. "Hang on, you have records of everyone who dies?" he asked.</p><p>"Of course" Azrael replied absentmindedly. "How else would we catalogue every soul in the multiverse? The records are transcribed when the judges examine their lives for us to review later, in case we lose any."</p><p>Jack glanced across to him. "Am I in there?" he asked curiously.</p><p>"No" he answered bluntly. "The judges couldn't judge you, so your record is incomplete."</p><p>Somehow, that just made Jack even more uneasy. Knowing that there's a supernatural admin department waiting to document his life when he finally dies almost triggered another existential crisis. He shook the dark cloud away and focused on the most immediate picture. "So, does this ghost have a name?" he asked Freya.</p><p>Her eyes flickered across the holographic images until she found the text she was seeking. "His mortal name was Mike Tether" she told him. "We don't know the full extent of the powers his soul has developed. He's currently on a rampage through the city called <em>Sheffield</em>. It's not Paris, I'm afraid" she added with a disappointed shrug.</p><p>Jack nodded. He knew of the city. He hadn't had a reason to visit yet so this would be an interesting first. "Okay, get the stopwatch ready" he said to her, earning an excited chuckle as he turned to walk towards the Soul-bridge. "I'll drag this thing back in no time."</p><p>His walk was interrupted when Azrael stood up and addressed the confident reaper. "Don't try to prove yourself on this one kid" he warned. "Malevolent entities like these are dangerous, even to Reapers. At the rate his power is rising, he could burst through to the mortal realm at any time. And if that happens, the chaos he could bring down on humanity would be biblical. It'll be safer to simply kill him rather than catch him. His soul will be sent directly to Hell as a result. This isn't a training mission."</p><p>"No showing off. Got it" he nodded, saluting the pair of them. "I'll be back in a moment, then I can get some bloody sleep."</p><p>He sounded confident, but in reality he was trembling and nervous. This would be the first true test as a Reaper, with millions of lives at stake. He wasn't a hundred percent sure he was up for this, but he was too tired to argue with himself. No time for regrets. <em>Time to step up </em>his old mentor would've said. He walked out of the observation deck towards the soul-bridge and would just have to hope he could stop this thing before anyone got hurt.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>5</p><p><em>The Oak</em> was a recent addition to the neighbourhood, built a couple of years ago by a corporate group wanting to branch out into the town of Ilkeston. But the project proved to be a flop when the franchise was fundamentally boycotted by the local populace. As a result the building was condemned, until it was bought by a local pub owner and refurbished. After that the owner sold the deed to a man named Samuel Anderson, the older brother of Troy Anderson, who rechristened the pub as <em>The Acorn</em> and redecorated. Now it was a popular establishment in the neighbourhood. Popular enough to draw both Troy Anderson and Brodey Harrison to the same place so they could share a drink.</p><p>Brodey and Troy had been friends since school, but they lost contact after they left and went their separate directions. This was the first time they'd seen each other in years. There had used to be a whole group of them, six in total. There was Troy, Brodey, a scrawny young man named Joseph, a lanky tall man called Jordan, a smaller but active young man named Karl, and of course Jackson White. They used to hang out every break and sometimes during class, virtually inseparable sometimes. But that didn't mean they were brothers in arms. There was always discourse and conflict within the group, the friends clashing on a regular basis for a variety of reasons. Yet the group remained friends all the way until the end of school. After that, few of them stayed in touch. Interestingly, Jackson was the only one to make a clean break from everyone but Troy.</p><p>"So, what have you been up to recently?" Troy asked his broad shouldered companion, sitting on his left taking a sip from his pint. A dozen people were seated inside the building making idle conversation with each other, not giving the two young men any attention, giving the pair of them privacy to talk.</p><p>Brodey took a swig from his cup and shrugged. "Not much" he replied. "Working as usual. Although I am trying to score a date from this sweet gal from across the hall" he smirked. "I'm talking fit as hell, you know what I mean? Legs up to your eyes and tits the size of bowling balls. She says she's not interested, but…" he clicked his tongue twice winking, causing Troy to roll his eyes. "What about you?" he asked. "Any hot new girls I should know about?"</p><p>Troy shook his head. "Nothing on that front" he reported, a knowing smile on his lips. Nobody at school was aware of Troy's sexual orientation and he wasn't in a hurry to correct them either. "Just a slow, boring lifestyle. I've been working odd jobs here and there. But otherwise…" he shrugged.</p><p>"Come on" he pressed, much like he did back when they were in school. "There must be something interesting happening in your life? I'm chasing a hot piece of ass. I have it on good authority our old friend Jordan is pulling drunks out of music venues every night. Even Karl is starting to break bread in his music career. Everybody has something that isn't boring."</p><p>"Sorry to disappoint you" he replied. Brodey crossed his arms and stared at him. He refused to accept Troy's life was as boring as he claimed. Troy could've told him that he witnessed a monster tear up a scrapyard a week ago, but he didn't think Brodey would buy that. "If it's interesting you want" he said just to divert the topic, "I'm not the one you should be talking to."</p><p>Brodey narrowed his eyes, but burst out laughing as he realised what he meant. "Oh, are you talking about our old friend Jack White? I heard he took an impromptu visit to the afterlife" he said jokingly. Troy briefly tensed at how close to the truth his mate really was. "How is he doing anyway?" Brodey asked, playing off the news like it was just banter.</p><p>Troy thought back to his time in school, sitting with their group of friends, and imagined relaying the news of Jack's accident to them. He pictured the revelation being met with a wave of laughter and applause, as was the way of society even now. Joseph would've most likely thrown a party, placing bets on how long it would've taken Jack to die. Troy recalled the many, many times he was caught in the middle of the endless tensions between his friends, and for once happy they weren't around any longer. "He's fine" he finally replied to Brodey's query. "He's alive."</p><p>"As he finally got himself a girlfriend?" Brodey asked.</p><p>He snapped his eyes up to stare at him. "Really? That's what you want to…" he sighed heavily, trailing of his outrage. Brodey always did have some funny priorities. He almost told him about Kassie, but he knew Jack would probably skin him alive if he did. "He's made some new friends" he said instead, which wasn't a lie. "But I wouldn't know about his love life" he lied.</p><p>Brodey sat back in his chair, sipping from his glass. "So what's he doing now? Still at university? Is he living it up at all those parties? It's about time he started having some fun."</p><p>Troy rolled his eyes again. From what Jack told him, the stereotypical university experience was far from accurate from his perspective. Everyone he'd met didn't party every night like they were led to believe, focused on their studies instead. Which made it paradise for him. Troy wasn't willing to break the reality to his mate however, dodging the question. "He's got something keeping him busy over the holiday" he said. "That's why he's not here to join us sadly" he added glumly.</p><p>"Shame" he said disappointed. "It would've been nice to say hello."</p><p>Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the loud shouting from a slumped figure sitting at the far end of the bar off to their right. The two old friends looked over to see the grizzled, ragged old man slumped upon the counter dressed in a tattered coat, baggy jeans and steel cap boots, messy grey hair covering his face and beard. He looked like he hadn't showered for days. In fact it looked as if he hadn't left that seat in weeks. He was holding an empty pint glass in his hand and shouting to the woman behind the bar, yelling "Barkeep, get me another Guinness! This glass won't refill itself!"</p><p>The bar staff was doing their best to ignore him, but the looks on their faces told Troy they were reaching their limit. "Charming fellow" Brodey muttered.</p><p>"How long do you reckon until my brother kicks him out into the street?" he asked theoretically.</p><p>"He's been here longer than we have" Brodey replied. "And he's already intoxicated. So not long I'd wager. So," he said, turning the conversation back on topic. "What do you think Jack's doing in his spare time?" he pondered.</p><p>Troy shrugged. "Oh, you know, this and that. The kind of stuff Jack usually does in his spare time" he answered, barely giving any thought to what he could be up to while they were here. When they last spoke he said he was simply getting an early night, but Troy knew better than to assume that was actually true.</p><p>The fact was Troy didn't want to know what Jack was up to.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>6</p><p>Sheffield was just another city in the United Kingdom. But to Jackson, it might as well be a different world. This was his first real visit to the city, the grey buildings rising into the sky surrounded by the dozens of businesses, shops and offices, the streets filled with men and women on their way to or from work or on a night out heading to the next bar or club. Compared to Ilkeston, it was bigger. But in Jackson's opinion, Derby was nicer. He shot out of the Soul-Bridge with a BOOM, landing on the dusty concrete in Limbo in a large dust cloud. Looking up he was surprised to find the mirror image of the city looking virtually intact.</p><p>
  <em>Hm. Not much different in this dimension.</em>
</p><p>"Okay, I'm here" he called over the telepathic link, his eyes scanning the empty streets. "I can see why I never considered coming here before now. It's kind of dull."</p><p>"Stay focused" Azrael snapped from the fortress. "You're looking for a malevolent entity of extreme power. It may be sporting some unique abilities attuned to Tether's persona."</p><p>"You'll do great" Freya said confidently. "Just let me know when you want me to start that stopwatch?"</p><p>Jack smiled, wondering what his personal best time actually was. But as he looked around he was met with just empty air and vacant streets. "Thanks Freya?" he replied distracted. He didn't see anything resembling a ghost, no spirits and no poltergeists. "But first, maybe you can tell me what this thing is supposed to look like?"</p><p>At that moment, an explosion erupted out of the dark grey brick wall directly behind him, throwing him off his feet and onto the concrete floor. His ear drums were ringing from the explosion as he covered his head, rubble raining all around him, an intense heat tickling the back of his neck. As he scrunched his eyes closed he sensed a presence launch out of the building through the dust cloud, flying through the air floating over his head. Goosebumps rose on Jack's arms as he sensed the evil emanating off the unknown entity, the sensation as hot as a fire. Pushing through the painful ringing in his ears he blinked through the dust in his eyes, raising his head to peer through the thick cloud hanging in the air. Floating a few feet off the ground he saw a bright orange ball of flames glowing in the street. But he could somehow perceive the shape of a man's torso inside the fire, generating the flames with his hate and anger, his eyes bright yellow glaring at the young man on the floor.</p><p>"Never mind" Jack muttered to his friends. "I found it."</p><p>The poltergeist roared at the young reaper, its bright eyes burning into the boy as the air suddenly erupted into flames. Jack instinctively rolled out of the path of the inferno, leaping up onto his feet ducking behind a wall. "Jack, are you okay?" Freya called over the link.</p><p>"I'm okay" he replied, patting down a few embers on his jacket. "Just got a little singed." He scolded himself for being an idiot. <em>Of course this guy is a floating ball of fire. What else does an arsonist become after he dies?</em></p><p>Peeking around the corner he realised the poltergeist had turned away from Jack's location and was flying in the opposite direction. "Jack!" Azrael's voice shouted. "Its energy levels are rising. You need to go after it now!"</p><p>"On it" he replied, jumping out of cover to chase after the spirit.</p><p>He followed it through the streets, phasing through a building to try and cut him off in an alley. But this poltergeist seemed to be as psychic as Jack is, predicting his arrival by blasting a fireball through a window to explode in his face. Jack was caught off guard and knocked through another wall. His vision briefly shifting between limbo and the mortal realm where he saw a family leap to their feet after witnessing every item in their bookshelf fly across the room. Their fight was translating to the physical world. He had to be careful.</p><p>"Okay buddy" Jack muttered as he sprinted back through the broken window. "You want to play with fire? Try this on for size" he quipped, springing into the alley throwing a ball of Hellfire from his hand. The orb of orange flames collided with the poltergeist, knocking it to the side bringing it to a stop. He used the opportunity to catch up with it, following up with a barrage of Hellfire to keep it pinned to the ground before it could retaliate. But it didn't stop it screaming out in fury and unleashing a wave of heat, nearly pushing Jack off his own feet. He held his ground this time though, pushing back with his own jet of flames.</p><p>"Jack, are you okay?" a worried Freya asked.</p><p>"A little burned, but I'm fine" he replied curtly, nursing a small burn on his shoulder caught from the last burst. The poltergeist was trapped beneath his barrage, the cone of hellfire keeping the entity down unable to escape. It screamed angrily trying to break free, but Jack channelled his power into the brand to keep it pinned. "How am I doing?" he asked over the link. "Give me a few more seconds and this will all be over."</p><p>The alley suddenly got hotter as the poltergeist roared, surging forward to grab at Jack's body, its hands gripping his arms and scolding his skin. But Jack braced against it, suffering the pain keeping it in his grasp. "Damn it!" Azrael cursed. "He's overheating. You need to kill it now!"</p><p>"I'm trying" Jack growled. "Just give me a minute to…"</p><p>"We don't have a minute! Its energy levels are spiking. If you don't finish it now, it'll get too hot to…"</p><p>Azrael didn't get to finish his sentence as the air around Jack suddenly became blisteringly warm. He felt his skin begin to peel as the atoms became charged. He sensed the hatred, the evil, enveloping his senses overwhelming his mind. He stared at the poltergeist, the contorted face of the dead arsonist screaming at him like an animal, the fire swirling between them like a thunderstorm. He heard Freya's panicked voice calling to him over the roar of the inferno, his ear drums bursting as his flesh melted from the heat. He tried to reach out and grab the spirit, but it felt like he was reaching through a wall of scolding hot jelly.</p><p>The last thing Jackson heard was his own scream of pain before everything went white.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>7</p><p>"So tell me, how are you spending your free time?" Brodey asked.</p><p>"On my computer" Troy answered dismissively. "Why? You got another suggestion?"</p><p>Brodey smiled, glad he asked. "Well, me, Jordan and Karl are planning to go on a pub crawl next week. If you're interested, you could tag along."</p><p>Troy thought about it. He couldn't remember the last time he had a full night on the town. The last drink he shared with a mate was with Jack last week. But Jack wasn't a night owl. Going to pubs and clubs wasn't really his thing. But he didn't want to exclude him outright. He knew how left out he always felt when he found out they'd had fun without him, he'd always find out the day after and realise none of them had even considered asking him. Troy felt guilty for being that crappy in the past. "Sounds like a great idea" he decided, but also included "reckon you could spare some room for Jack too?"</p><p>Brodey looked surprised. He knew this wouldn't be his scene, but his shrugged. "Sure, if he agrees."</p><p>Troy nodded. "It might help take his mind off a few things" he muttered.</p><p>"What things?" Brodey asked curiously.</p><p>"The sort of things he wouldn't appreciate me telling you about" he replied firmly.</p><p>Brodey reluctantly backed off the topic, recalling how private Jack was around his personal life. "Couldn't hurt to ask" he shrugged. "As long as he doesn't drag the mood down." He paused before hesitantly informing Troy "There is one thing I should mention though…"</p><p>They were suddenly interrupted by the drunk at the bar once again, his voice roaring over the hustled conversations around them as he was dragged off his bar stool. "GET OFFA ME YOU FREKING WANKER!"</p><p>"Take it easy Stoke" the barman said calmly, pulling the large man away from the bar towards the door. "You've had enough for the night" he told him with authority.</p><p>"I've asked for another drink!" the man named Stoke argued angrily, refusing to be manhandled out of the door. "I'm not leaving until I get my drink!" he spat.</p><p>"Told you" Troy whispered to his friend.</p><p>The two of them watched the man struggle with Troy's brother as he fought to get back to the bar, shouting and arguing with him refusing to leave. After a while Stoke started getting violent, lashing out with his fists to escape the man's grasp. "Cool off mate!" Brodey called out to him. "You've had enough!"</p><p>Stoke pulled himself away from the barman, swinging wildly at him stumbling on his feet. "I won't take this from the likes of you!" he growled, reaching into his pocket to whip out a pocket knife. The atmosphere in the room changed the second the metal blade sprung out of the handle.</p><p>Troy instinctively stepped out of his seat when the drunk waved his knife in their direction. "Take it easy" he said nervously, watching his brother back away from the drunk with his hands raised. He felt his blood run ice cold inside his veins, his heart clenching in his chest from fear. "We don't want any trouble."</p><p>"Do you know what I'm capable of?" Stoke growled, his eyes glaring at everyone in the room. "Nobody talks to me like that! You hear? I could kill you! Anybody talks to me like that, I'll kill you! I'll kill all of…"</p><p>Before there very eyes, Stoke suddenly doubles over with a loud barf unleashing a cone of vomit at his feet. Everyone recoiled as the angry drunk abruptly threw up his stomach contents, the suddenly motion causing him to drop his knife. The barman was quick to kick the weapon aside. "Well, that was anti-climactic" Brodey muttered.</p><p>"Kill…all of…" Stoke mumbled, slurring his words as he struggled to bring himself upright. Wavering on his feet the man lurched forward in an attempt to attack the barman. But as he swung his left hand it was caught by the suddenly arrival of a firm arm as a younger, more lanky man stepped into the pub dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and grey hoodie. Stoke turned to glare at the young man, examining his blonde hair and angular features, and scowled with disdain. "Get off me you pathetic waste of space!" he spat, nearly falling onto the young man in a heap.</p><p>"Okay old man" the young man scowled, shoving him off and onto the floor. "I think it's time you got your drunk ass back home."</p><p>Stoke reluctantly crawls out of the building and into the street where he could pull himself up to his feet and stumble back home. Inside, the young man waved to the gather audience telling them the show was over before walking over to greet Troy and Brodey. "Sorry about dear old dad" he said with no apology. "He's a bit of an asshole."</p><p>"Does he always threaten people with a knife?" Brodey asked, sighing with relief happy it was over. Troy wasn't so calm though as he stared at the young man.</p><p>"Only when he's been drinking" the blonde man replied. "Which is all the time. Glad my mother saw sense and left him." he looked up at the glaring Troy, flashing him a sly smile. "Long time no see Troy."</p><p>"It has been a while Joseph" he replied. "I thought you had moved out of town?"</p><p>"Back for the summer only. Staying with a mate of mine, thought I'd stop in for a pint. Had I realised that dead weight was here, I wouldn't have bothered."</p><p>Troy glanced over his shoulder at Brodey, who didn't seem surprised to find their old friend Joseph Stoke back in town. "So we'll be seeing you around here more than?" he asked, trying to keep the bitter tone from his voice.</p><p>He shrugged. "Maybe. Karl, Jordan, Brodey and I are planning a little night on the town" he said, nodding to the silent dark haired man at the bar. Brodey politely raised his glass to him in confirmation. "We would love to see you there, if you're interested" he offered. "It'd be just like old times."</p><p>From the cocky smirk etched on his face, Troy figured he wasn't joking either. Suddenly he wasn't so sure old times were a good idea. There were a few he would've rather forget. "I'll consider it" he replied hesitantly. He heard another series of swear words from outside, glancing out to see the old drunk man still stumbling outside. "Are you going to be okay with your dad?" he asked.</p><p>Joseph looked outside and scoffed. "That old drunk is not my problem anymore. Though I wouldn't mind seeing him collapsing in a gutter somewhere, but only if he doesn't get back up. Maybe I'll get lucky one of these days" he muttered, a cold look in his eyes as he stared after his old man. Something about his callous expression made Troy shiver, like the heat had suddenly been sucked out of the room. But then his eyes snapped back to him and it was gone. "Anyway, got to dash. Places to be, hours to sleep, people to see. See you around mate" he said, waving them goodbye before stepping back out into the street, ignoring the vulgar language from Stoke as he walked in the opposite direction.</p><p>Troy watched the arrogant boy leave and released a slow breath in response, sinking back into his seat beside Brodey. "You still want to invite Jack to come along?" he asked calmly.</p><p>Troy's head spun around to face him. "Are you joking?" he squeaked, eyes wide. Until that second, all he could think about was how much of a tool Joseph Stoke was back in school. One of the smartest in their year but with all the confident arrogance of a football jock. He considered himself Mr popular and wasn't above bullying his way to the top. They were friends because he talked his way into their group in their seventh year, but by their final year he was worse than the average drug dealer. He picked on anyone he thought wasn't "cool". Fortunately, he liked everyone in their group, with one exception. "If I put those two in a room together, we might as well be setting off illegal fireworks" Troy stammered.</p><p>"Maybe they've mellowed out since school" Brodey said optimistically. "People change."</p><p><em>That didn't seem mellow</em> Troy thought. "People might. But those two? You didn't see them on their last day together." Troy slumped over the counter. <em>Why did the situation need to get more complicated?</em> "I'll ask him if he wants to come" he said. "But I have a feeling he'd much rather poke his own eyes out."</p><p>Brodey clapped his hand on his shoulder. "You never know. Maybe they can use the opportunity to finally bury the hatchet."</p><p><em>Somebody will bury something alright</em>, he thought worried. He took another sip of his drink and tried to be optimistic. He was just glad Jack wasn't here to see all the excitement.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>8</p><p>Jack's ears were ringing, his vision bright white as he lay on the molten hot ground. His head was fuzzy with the world out of focus around him. His body was aching and weak, it felt like everything was numb. It was difficult to open his eyes, the light blinding him sending bolts of pain to his brain.</p><p><em>Get up</em>.</p><p>He opened his mouth and released a quiet moan, his voice miles away echoing in the void. His chest hurt. It felt like his rib cage had been ripped open. His lungs burned as he tried to take a deep breath, igniting a burst of pain in his stomach.</p><p>
  <em>GET UP!</em>
</p><p>He heard voices calling out to him from the void, carried on a non-existent breeze, urging him to wake up. As he blinked into the light he forced his arms to move, dragging them across the ground, pulling his hands underneath his body to push himself off the ground. The skin of his palm blistered as it made contact with the ground below. He drew another breath and discovered the air was full of smoke and sulphur, leaving a bad taste in his mouth.</p><p>
  <em>Jack, you need to get up!</em>
</p><p>"Marcus?" he asked under his breath, prying his eyes open to see the silhouette of a man standing over him, draped in a trench coat blowing in the wind, his grey beard covering his aged face, his narrow eyes looking expectantly down at him. He tried to reach out to the dark figure standing over him, but he seemed to vanish into the distance. But his voice echoed back at him. <em>You need to get up!</em></p><p>"Get up kid!"</p><p>"Jack!"</p><p>The voices suddenly cut through the fog, waking him up from his daze, as the rest of the world started to come into focus. He found himself in the middle of a smoking crater, sitting in the middle of a junction with men and woman screaming and shouting, a couple of people standing nervously around the edge looking down at him. He pushed himself up to his knees and looked around the thin crowds, looking for the man in the raincoat from earlier. But he was nowhere to be found. The evening air brushed across his face, clearing his airways of sulphur and smoke so he could inhale more easily. His aching body strained against his weight but he could feel his strength returning slowly.</p><p>"Jack, are you okay?" Freya's voice called out to him from inside his head.</p><p>"I'm here" he groaned, rolling onto his side so he could sit up in the crater. He nursed his head as the ringing subsided, replaced with the bustling sounds of the city. "What happened?"</p><p>"You took too long kid" Azrael told him angrily, his voice booming in his ears. "The spirit reached the pinnacle of its energy levels and overloaded, discharging its energy all at once."</p><p>"You mean it blew up in my face?" Jack asked, shaking his head of cobwebs.</p><p>"Yes, it blew up in your face. And it blew a hole in the fabric of reality. I told you not to mess around with this thing. Now it's loose in the mortal world."</p><p>Jack blinked, looking up into the sky to see the dark night greeting him, the familiar warmth of the physical realm meeting his senses. "Shit" he cursed, pushing up to his feet to crawl out of the crater. He pulled himself out of the hole and saw the devastation their explosion and created in this realm, cars overturns and shop fronts on fire, bodies scattered around the road suffering serious burns and injuries. Smoke billowed out of the buildings around them rising into the night sky, blotting out the stars and moon high above. "Crap. How long was I out?" Jack asked staring and the chaos. <em>This is all my fault</em> he thought.</p><p><em>Yes it is</em>.</p><p>He turned sharply searching for the source of the grizzled voice, searching the crowds. But nobody was paying him any mind, all focused on the destruction. "Not long" Freya told him. "Just a few minutes." Her voice sounded terrified, worried, concerned. "Are you okay?"</p><p>"I'm fine" he replied, turning away from the crowd dismissing the uneasy feeling he was experiencing. "Just a little dizzy. Where's the poltergeist?"</p><p>"We're tracking it through the city" she replied. "It's not far from your position. Just head east along the road."</p><p>"I can't believe we did this from Limbo" he said, looking at the fallout one last time before sprinting off down the road.</p><p>"You've heard the expression <em>waking the dead</em>? Well, if you make enough noise in limbo the reverse is possible, creating ripples through reality. It's how spirits are able to affect things from the other side. I've heard Marcus's stories about entities powerful enough to rip a hole in the barrier just from sheer energy, but I've never seen it."</p><p>"Quit yapping kid" Azrael interrupted. "Now that it's outside of the afterlife, this thing will be even more dangerous in the mortal realm."</p><p>"It just punched a hole in the fabric of reality" Jack said following the street further into the city, running past fleeing civilians heading in the opposite direction. "How much more dangerous could it get?"</p><p>His path was suddenly blocked by an explosion of concrete as a column of fire sprung from the ground, towering into the sky raining flaming debris down into the streets crushing cars and benches. Water pipes burst from the heat and windows shattered around Jackson as he covered his face from the showering hailstorm, looking through his fingers at the bright yellow firestorm swirling in the air. The column moved like a living being, the flames flickering into the shape of a giant glaring down at him with blazing eyes, his voice a roar of destruction.</p><p>"I really should just stop talking" he sighed.</p><p>Mike Tether, their poltergeist, had now manifested into an arsonist's greatest miracle, fire itself. And as it towered over the streets of Sheffield he was eager to test its new powers as he grew two massive fireballs for fists, bringing them crashing down into the street below. Jack leapt back as these giant fists hit the tarmac, creating a shockwave of blistering heat that sent him flying through the air and into the side of a building. He bounced across the upper levels and out the opposite window, falling back to the ground landing on top of a seven-seater, the impact crushing the aluminium roof inwards. Jack lay on top of the vehicle staring up at the hole he'd just rolled out of, groaning in pain as he uttered a discouraged "ow".</p><p>He didn't get long to recover as he pried his body from the broken metal of the car he landed in, his cuts and bruises healing as he carefully slid down to the floor, looking through the windows of the ground floor car showroom where he could see the column of fire weaving through the cars on the opposite side. Tether's face peered through the glass windows towards the young reaper, his glaring eyes burning white hot as he roared loudly. He struck the glass with an underarm swing, the fireball bursting through the windows followed by his body, the inferno morphing to fly through the dealership in Jack's direction.</p><p>Jack cursed, jumping off to the side as the fireball erupted out of the building in a plume of smoke and brick as the first three stories burst into flames above them. Tether came back around to dive into the road, engulfing the street in heat, reforming into a column of fire launching another fist at the reaper. Jack spun around on his heel, his right hand igniting in Hellfire as he swung back to meet the fireball. The brand created a barrier to block the onslaught, sending flames in all directions as people dove for cover. Tether screamed as he bombarded Jack with flames, but he phased backwards out of harm's way before leaping onto an overturned fire truck.</p><p>"Okay you son of a bitch" he growled, anger intensifying his brand, "you want fire, I'll give you fire." As Tether went to send another fireball in his direction he tensed his knees and sprung into the air, throwing himself across the street towards the spirit, encasing his fist in Hellfire. With a powerful bellow he struck the inferno through the head, passing through the construct like it wasn't there. But the hellfire connected with the spirit and Tether was sent backwards through the buildings. Cars exploded as fire engulfed them and Jack landed between two smoking wrecks. Tether was hovering above him wavering from the surprise attack, unprepared for Jack's follow up blast from his palm. The fireball collided with the poltergeist and caused him to scream in pain. "It's not enough" he muttered, trying to think of a new plan. His volley was countered with another fireball, but Jack was able to block it again with a barrier. But instead of exploding on impact, this time the fireball froze in mid-air and was absorbed into Jack's palm for him to fire back at the poltergeist.</p><p>Jack looked at his hand. And idea came to him. <em>I can control fire</em>. He stepped forward as Tether rose over him again, roaring into the sky, and thrust his outstretched hand towards him. He didn't unleash hellfire at him, instead concentrating on the inferno in front of him and trying to draw it into himself by sheer force of will. He wasn't sure if he was doing it right, not until the flames around him shrank as the heat was absorbed into the brand. Tether screamed as his form began to dissipate, his size shrinking down until he was only eight feet tall. Jack was sweating from the exertion. He could feel the heat filling his body, bubbling under his skin. He kept going, determined to draw every last once of energy from the spirit. "I have you now, you dead bastard" he grunted.</p><p>Tether wasn't done fighting however, unleashing a primal scream that shattered all the remaining windows in the street. Jack stopped his absorption of the spirit and used the energy he'd gathered to create a barrier around him, resisting the blast so he wasn't thrown off his feet. Cars flipped over his head as Tether stumbled backwards, darting away from the reaper fleeing into a nearby shop window.</p><p>Inside the small newsagents, a Pakistani man stood behind the counter, refusing to leave his post in case some hooligans decided to attempt to rob his family business. He witnessed the fight between Jackson and the poltergeist, playing to his gods that he and his shop would be safe. They weren't with him on that day as the fire engulfed spirit dived through his shop window towards him, meeting his scream of terror with a howl of fury as the shop burst into flames.</p><p>Jack had just dispelled the barrier when he saw the monster jump into the newsagents, shielding his face as it exploded in a large fireball. When the smoke cleared he ran up to the shop to find the poltergeist, ready for it to come barrelling out to face him again. But when he got in front of the broken window he saw a middle aged Pakistani man standing amidst the burning remains of the shop, his clothes torn and burnt falling off his slim healthy frame. He flexed his muscles as he turned to look out into the street, his eyes burning yellow as flames flickered around the edges and under his skin.</p><p>"It feels good to be back" the man said, his voice hollow and grim, like someone else was speaking through his body.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>9</p><p>"Oh, come on!" Jack complained.</p><p>The newly possessed shopkeeper stepped over the rubble of the newsagent's interior, his eyes glowing bright yellow as he looked up at him, a large grin on his face. Jack could see the evil persona of Mike Tether behind the man's eyes. "Jack? What's happening?" Freya asked over the telepathic link while he squared up to his opponent.</p><p>"I think our friend Mike just found a new body" he replied, watching him look down at his dark skinned form in burnt clothes. He flexed his muscles summoning two balls of fire in his palms, energy glowing under his skin. "And he now has superpowers" Jack added moments before Tether fired two beams of heat towards him. He jumped out of the way, falling onto his back as the beams cut into the opposing building, break a large hole in the brick wall causing the interior to explode.</p><p>"He's possessed a mortal?" Azrael said thoughtfully. "That complicates things."</p><p>"You think?" he snapped, rolling to his feet as the man leapt out of the building, crashing through the crumbling building engulfed in flames, punching into the ground where Jack was seconds earlier. The impact erupted into a miniature explosion, particles of tarmac flying into the air. Jack stumbled to his feet and ran up at him, throwing a hellfire punch that struck the man in the chin throwing him across the road. It felt like he was punching someone twice his size, but he was afraid of doing serious damage to this innocent victim. "Please tell me we have an exorcist on speed-dial" he called to his allies.</p><p>"You are the exorcist on speed-dial" Freya replied. That made Jack feel better.</p><p>"There are two ways to deal with the situation now" Azrael explained. "If you can't exorcise the spirit from the mortal, you'll have to eliminate the host body. As long as they are bonded, the entity has to obey the rules of its host."</p><p>"I am not murdering an innocent man!" Jack answered immediately.</p><p>"You haven't been trained in exorcism yet!" he reminded him. "You don't have a choice."</p><p>"Then talk me through it" he suggested, dodging fireballs before running in to grapple with Tether, hoping to limit the amount of damage he was causing.</p><p>"Hang on, I'll find the spells we'll need" Freya said. Through the telepathic link, Jack sensed her sprint away from the console towards the exit with Azrael's voice telling her to check the library for any scrolls on removing demons she could find.</p><p>This left Jack to fend for himself as he struggled with the strong young Pakistani man as fire burned around the pair of them. People were screaming as police cars arrived on scene to find them fighting in the street, talking through loudspeakers ordering them to surrender on their knees. Tether looked across at them and smiled, pushing Jack away to launch a barrage of flames towards the officers. Their vehicles crumpled under the heat as their petrol tanks exploded, scattering the police forces in all directions. Jack retaliated with a cone of Hellfire, creating a barrier between them and the civilians to protect them, until Tether redirected his barrage at Jack himself. The blast sent him across the street through a brick wall into a nearby parking lot, landing in a heap on the ground floor of the carpark.</p><p>"Are you guys done yet?" he muttered, groaning his pain as he peeled himself off the floor. He didn't get an answer from the fortress, indicating the angels were still scouring the shelves of their personal archive, which Jack recalled was over five floors and larger than the inside of the TARDIS. They might be a while. He picked himself up and ducked behind a nearby vehicle, hoping to get his breath back before he engaged Tether again.</p><p>Unfortunately, Mike Tether wasn't willing to wait. He stepped through the hole in the wall, his body rippling with power as flames danced around his hands and eyes, the remains of his clothes falling off his blistering skin. "Have you ever looked into the flames of a raging inferno?" he asked rhetorically, his voice echoing across the indoor carpark. There was an ethereal echo to the man's throat, like two voices talking in unison, Tether puppeteering the man he was possessing. "So majestic. So powerful. Nothing could ever stop it as it destroys all it touches." He jumped down to the ground, scanning the interior searching for Jack. "Now I am the flames and nothing can stop me."</p><p><em>So that's what this is about, </em>Jack thought. <em>He sees fire as a primal force and he wanted to become that force of nature.</em> "I'd hate to burst your bubble mate" Jack said, stepping out of cover to face the arsonist. "But fire isn't the true unstoppable force you think it is."</p><p>Tether sneered menacingly. "What is more powerful than that which destroys all?"</p><p>"That which is inevitable" he suggested, his eyes glowing purple.</p><p>Tether looked into his eyes and witnessed the power behind Jack's eyes, witnessing his true identity in a fraction of a second. But he just smiled, throwing out his hands to unleash fire at the reaper. Jack met the beam with Hellfire, the energy clashing in the centre spreading heat through the car park, melting tyres and shattering windscreens. The fire roared as Tether proved the most powerful, his force pushing Jack's beam back against his hand until he couldn't withstand the heat any longer. The fire struck Jack in the chest, burning through his clothes and scolding his skin across his body and neck, throwing him backwards onto the ground in a smoking heap.</p><p>"I know who you are" Tether said, walking towards the fallen reaper. "But you are not that man. You are weak. You should've stayed home like a good little boy and let this world burn."</p><p>Jack pushed himself up to his hands and knees, his skin cooling down on its own as his burns healed faster than the average mortal. <em>He's right</em>, a voice in his head told him. <em>You're not ready for this. You should've just stayed home. You're not the Grim Reaper. You can't even wield your scythe properly.</em></p><p>"The last guy I knew who wanted to see the world burn tried to hurt the people I care about" Jack replied, his eyes glaring up at the arrogant arsonist, Hellfire charging up inside his fist. "You are no different. I stopped him, and I will stop you."</p><p>He ignored the voice in his head, blocking a fresh beam of fire from Tether with his brand. But this time he forced the beam back with Hellfire, temporarily confusing the poltergeist long enough for his to sprint forward, crossing the distance between them in seconds, following up with a fiery punch across his skull. Tether wasn't ready for the assault, taking the fist to the side of his temple and sending him to the ground. Jack didn't leave him room to escape, jumping on top of him to grab his arms and pin the man to the ground, using his supernatural strength to hold the possessed man in place.</p><p>"You had your chance in this world" Jack said to him, fighting against the struggling entity. "Now you've just blown your second one." He quickly released one of his arms so he could punch the man in the head again, hoping to knock him out so he could shout back to the fortress. "Azrael! Freya! Are you there yet? I've got Tether down and would really love to send him to Hell now."</p><p>"We're here!" Freya called, her voice sounding distant like she had just arrived back in the observation deck. He pictured her carrying multiple scrolls and books in her arms and scattering them across the floor to search through them.</p><p>"I WILL NOT LEAVE THIS WORLD AGAIN!" Tether shouted, firing orange flames from the man's mouth.</p><p>"Hurry up, I can't hold he forever!" Jack said, frantically urging her to hurry.</p><p>Freya came back a few moments later, her voice breathless and nervous. "Okay, I've got this. It's a field spell that should separate the spirit from the host body."</p><p>"Should?"</p><p>"You'll need to focus and do exactly what we tell you to" Azrael said commandingly.</p><p>"Just give me the condensed bullet points" Jack replied, franticly fighting against the struggling man, dodging bursts of fire as he tried to free himself. He was too busy struggling with Tether he couldn't concentrate on his friend's instructions. <em>I can't do this by myself!</em></p><p>
  <em>Fine</em>
  <em>!</em>
</p><p>Tether lunged up at Jackson again, breaking out of his hold. But suddenly he grabbed him around the throat and slammed him back down to the ground with so much force the concrete cracked beneath them. Tether glared up at the young reaper, but this time he was met with a pair of glowing purple eyes staring back menacingly as his right hand was planted firmly on the man's forehead. Azrael and Freya were shouting at him from the Well of Souls. Something must be wrong. But Jack couldn't stop himself. <em>Why can't he stop himself?</em></p><p>"I AM THE REAPER OF SOULS" Jack spoke. But it sounded wrong in Jack's ears. It wasn't his voice. He wasn't speaking. When he started chanting in a language he couldn't understand he started to worry. <em>I'm not in control. What's happening to me?</em> But even as he thought this, his body operated on its own. With every motion his mind somehow conjured up what he wanted to do. He knew what he was doing, almost like he was learning it as he was performing it. <em>But who the hell is teaching me?</em></p><p>"No, please!" Tether screamed as the host started to heat up beneath Jack's grip, so hot he thought the man was going to burst into flames. "Please!" he pleaded, his eyes full of fear and pain. "I just want to live. Just let me live!"</p><p>"BY THE POWER GIVEN TO ME BY THE WELL OF SOULS" Jack continued to chant, ignoring the spirit's frantic pleas, "I CAST THEE BACK TO WHERE YOU BELONG!"</p><p>And with that declaration he slammed the body into the ground once more, the walls of reality shattering as Tether was ejected out of the mortal and into the depths of Hell itself, screaming in agony as his corporeal form was burned away into oblivion.</p><p>When Jack blinked the car park was back to normal, his body his own again, the Pakistani man laying underneath him unconscious. He scrambled up to his feet and stared down at his hands, looking around at the floor and walls. Everything was fine. He checked the mortal on the floor. He was alive and spirit free. Tether was gone, he could feel it. But the memory of what he did remained, as well as the knowledge of the advanced, very complicated exorcism he'd just performed out of thin air. "What the hell?"</p><p>"Jack! Are you okay?" Freya asked. She sounded freaked out.</p><p>"Freya? What happened?"</p><p>"We couldn't reach you for a while" she explained. "Everything just went haywire here. But you seemed to have just thrown Tether through a portal straight to Hell."</p><p>"You did it kid" Azrael said, sounding both surprised and a little bit proud. "You pulled off a rather effective exorcism. Congratulations."</p><p>"Thanks" Jack muttered, feeling rather uneasy and terrified. "But seriously…What the fuck just happened to me?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>10</p><p>"Are you sure you okay?" Freya asked Jack for the twelfth time since he got back.</p><p>She had just cause to be worried. He'd been freaking out the moment he got back, demanding answers as he argued with Azrael. She hadn't seen him this afraid since Derby when he ran off to save his friends. She stood back and listened, busying herself with checking on the mortal realm as they recover from the battle with Mike Tether. Emergency services were on site and all the fires were put out. The man who had been possessed was found unharmed by the police, all trace of the poltergeist removed from him. As far as she could tell there had been no fatalities. They were lucky. But that wasn't what Jack seemed worried about.</p><p>"What the hell happened out there?" Jack was saying.</p><p>"You performed an ancient Aztec ritual to exorcise a spirit to Hell" Azrael replied. "An advanced spell, which you performed flawlessly. I must admit, I'm impressed kid."</p><p>"I know that, but how?" Jack snapped. "How could I know what I did without actually knowing what I was doing?"</p><p>Azrael stared at the young man with confusion. Freya didn't understand what he was saying either. "What exactly happened out there?" she asked him, turning away from the observation deck to try and calm him down. From Freya's perspective, she didn't see anything. She was busy scrambling through scrolls and books on the floor beside Azrael's throne while Jack was struggling with Tether. She wanted to find the perfect spell that would remove the spirit without harming the mortal. They'd just found the field spell that might work when their connection with Jack went haywire. She tried to get him back, screaming into the telepathic link, but when they got it back they found Jack effortlessly performing his own ritual expelling Tether from the mortal plane. For a moment Freya felt proud. But something about it made her uneasy, like something was wrong with him. It didn't feel like Jack through the link they were sharing, not until he answered their calls and started panicking. She wanted to understand what happened out there just as much as he did, but didn't want to worry him further by telling him she thought something was wrong.</p><p>Jack took a deep breath, looking back at Freya for support. "It was like…" he said, thinking carefully about how to word it. "It was like I was someone else. It felt like something had possessed me, using my body to eradicate the spirit. But at the same time, it was me in complete control. I knew what I was doing, somehow learning the ritual at the same instant I was performing it. I don't understand what is happening to me." He turned to look directly at Azrael. "Am I going insane or is this a part of the whole <em>Grim Reaper</em> thing?"</p><p>He crossed his arms and thought about it. "I don't know what you're talking about" he replied. "But the last time I saw that particular spell it was from Marcus, who learnt it from his predecessor, who spent nearly eighty years learning to master it."</p><p>"So how could I learn this spell out of thin air?"</p><p>He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know. But there is a possibility you acquired it from your subconscious."</p><p>Jack and Freya cocked their eyebrows. "My subconscious?" Jack asked.</p><p>"There's an unconfirmed possibility that Reapers have the potential to access skills and knowledge from past reapers" he explained. "I've had a few old partners who would swear they heard their old mentors in their heads teaching them how to perform complex feats just when they need them. You didn't hear Marcus when you learnt that ritual did you?" he asked curiously.</p><p>Jack fell silent a moment while Freya secretly held her breath. Could it be true that Marcus was teaching Jack from beyond the grave? It could explain the familiar sensation she felt through the telepathic link. But then Jack answered "No. Not Marcus. Just my own."</p><p>Azrael hummed in disappointment. "Pity" he said. "That would've been a helpful ability to have." He turned back to the throne and sat down. "No matter. It just means you'll have to learn the hard way. Good work with the spirit kid" he said, finishing the conversation.</p><p>Jack sighed, giving him a mock salute saying "You're welcome. Just let me know the next time a dead arsonist decides to rampage through Sheffield. I'm going back to bed." He turned on his heel and walked out of the deck.</p><p>Freya paused, looking back at the observation deck before chasing after Jackson, leaving the pile of scrolls and books on the floor to clean up later. She caught up with him at the Soul-Bridge, catching his arm before he passed through it. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked him.</p><p>"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" he snapped. He caught his words though and quickly followed up with "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just tired."</p><p>"That fight really freaked you out, didn't it?" she said sympathetically.</p><p>"It's not just today" he said, slumping down to sit on the platform in front of the soul-bridge.</p><p>Freya sat down beside him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "You've been distracted ever since you got back from Paris" she observed. "Do you want to talk about it?"</p><p>Jack averted his gaze, hesitating. He wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about what was bothering him. But he didn't really have anybody else to talk to. His parents didn't know about his double life. Troy may not understand. Freya might, despite being the only person left. "I've been to Paris, Mexico, Sheffield, a handful of other places, all by myself. I'm doing all these amazing things. I've seen so much normal people wouldn't believe. But at the end of the day, I've got no one to share it with."</p><p>"You've got me" she replied, scooting a little closer to reassure him.</p><p>"I know, but…" he said, stopping himself suddenly and looking away. Freya realised what this was about, feeling a small crack in her heart. "But I'm not the one you want to share it with" she finished, feeling rather embarrassed.</p><p>"I'm sorry" Jack replied, feeling like a jerk as he felt Freya pull away. "You are amazing" he said to her, taking her hand and squeezing it. That seemed to reassure the young angel, enough for them both to look each other in the eye. "I just thought I had moved past it. Past her. But it just…"</p><p>Freya nodded. "You miss her."</p><p>He sighed. "Me and Kassie. It's become so complicated" he said. "For the longest time, all I could think about was how to tell her how I feel. But then Derby happened and I died, came back, Zachery Helmsley, Marchosias… I thought I could let her go and forget her. But then I went to Paris and I just thought… <em>This would be the perfect place to take her on a date.</em> I had to remind myself that could never happen."</p><p>Freya gave him a quick hug. "It could one day" she said encouragingly.</p><p>"No it can't" Jack argued, shaking his head. "After what happened in Derby, I don't want to drag her into all of this. And why would she believe any of it if I told her?" He hung his head in despair. "No, I love her too much to expose her to all of this. Just like I can't tell my parents. I'm better off handling this by myself."</p><p>It broke Freya's heart to see Jack like this, withdrawn believing himself isolated and alone. "No one is better off alone" she insisted, squeezing his shoulders harder trying desperately to comfort him. "One day you'll be able to tell her the truth, and this will all be easier." As she said the words, she felt Marcus hovering over her shoulder reminding her how important secrecy is to this life. Mortals can't know about what they do. She remembered why she left the White City all those years ago. But she pushed those thoughts aside so she could be there for her friend. "Just remember you're not alone. I'm here if you need me."</p><p>Jack sat on the pedestal quietly, thankful to have the angel by his side. He did feel a little better, just a little, enough to shake the dark clouds away. He had a chance to tell Kassie the truth weeks ago, and sometimes regretted it ever since. Maybe one day he could tell her about all this, and how much he loved her. But for now he could settle for having Freya as a friend.</p><p>"Thank you Freya" he said, hugging the young woman before climbing onto his feet. "Now I really should go back home and get some sleep."</p><p>"Okay" she replied, standing up next to him to wave him off. "Goodnight Jack" she called as he stepped through the Soul-Bridge, travelling through the multiverse back to his house where he would phase back into his bed and pass out from exhaustion. She made her way back to the observation deck to clean up the mess she had made before Azrael punished her for it.</p><p>As the two young heroes turned in for the night, a drunken old man stumbled back into his house where he collapsed back into an old armchair. His living room was dank and decrepit, the grey wallpaper peeling off the wall, old paint work crumbling away to dust. What little furniture was left was eroded from neglect, tables uneven and shelves on the verge of collapse. The armchair he sat in was worn to the frame, the fabric faded to a dull turquoise. A single lightbulb hung from an exposed wire, the glass dark as the man couldn't even be bothered to switch on the light. He didn't need to, he knew how to reach the beer bottles he kept beside the armchair opposite the TV.</p><p>As he continued drinking, the man people knew as Stoke slumped back in his seat, still dressed in his raincoat and jeans and trainers, his unshaven face reflecting the moonlight coming from the bare curtain less window. He was almost asleep when he heard the door handle of his front door turn, the hinges squeaking as it was pushed open. "Who's there?" he called out, his words slurring. He tried to get up but his limbs were like jelly and he fell back into his seat. "Show yourself!" he shouted angrily.</p><p>A shadow stepped out of the hallway and approached the drunk man, examining him coldly as he looked up at the fuzzy shape in front of him. "Who are you..? What are you…hic…doing here? You bag… bag of shit!"</p><p>The shadow didn't say anything as it reached into its coat, pulling out a leather bound book with a horrified visage on the cover, the fragile pages flickering though his fingers as he searched them for the right page.</p><p>Stoke narrowed his gaze at the unfocused figure in his house, his fury boiling over as he went for the bottle next to him intending to batter this intruder with it. But then the shadow spoke and the man went rigid and still. His eyes widened in horror as his skin started to blister, yellow welts growing on his arms and under his clothes, covering his face as he suddenly convulsed. He screamed out in pain as his arms and legs twisted inhumanly, snapping his bones and twisting his organs. The blood vessels in his eyes burst as they began to swell, threatening to pop out of their sockets while the man screamed in agony. He begged for it to stop, the pain sobering him up so he could experience what was happening in perfect clarity.</p><p>The shadow stood calmly in the middle of the room, chanting the words written on the pages in his hands, watching as the writhing old man clutched and grabbed at his feet begging him to kill him. But the shadow said nothing and simply smiled as the front door of the unkempt house slammed shut, silencing all within its walls.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>11</p><p>Jack took the opportunity to sleep in the next morning, waking up at 11:30 to be immediately met with his younger brother and his daily questions. David White was a few years younger than Jack, but was equal to him in size if a little bit larger. He was a big baby while Jack was born premature. It didn't bother either of them. It actually served David more to be the big kid in school. The two brothers didn't hang out like most other siblings did, but they had no reason to fall out yet.</p><p>But that's liable to change if the ginger haired boy kept hounding the Grim Reaper day to day. "You off out again today?" he asked as Jack slumped into the bathroom to brush his teeth.</p><p>"Maybe" he replied, shutting the door in his face.</p><p>Ever since he got back from Derby, David was the one member of the family who was getting suspicious of his absences. He was the one who initially didn't believe his story about therapy, which was spot on until a few days ago. But since then he'd made it his mission to figure out what Jackson was doing with his days. At first he was fine evading those conversations, considering it practice for leading a double life. But now it was getting exhausting. He wasn't even trying to come up with excuses anymore. Fortunately he checked in with the fortress when he woke up, asking them not to call him in unless it was an emergency. Azrael agreed to give him the day off as reward for beating Tether. <em>Finally, a chance to unwind.</em></p><p>He finished in the bathroom to find David standing outside waiting for him. "So where are you going?" he asked. "Therapy?"</p><p>"Not today" he replied honestly.</p><p>"Driving lesson?"</p><p>"Nope."</p><p>"You got a date?"</p><p>"I wish."</p><p>"Building a time machine?"</p><p>"Considering it."</p><p>Despite how quick witted he sounded, Jack was still tired from his midnight battle with the poltergeist. David didn't let up however, watching him get dressed in their room saying "I will figure out what you're up to."</p><p>"There's nothing to figure out" he lied, pulling on his jeans and jacket over his grey shirt. He turned back to his brother asking "Why do you care anyway? I don't bother you this much about your day."</p><p>"That's because I don't act suspicious everyday" he replied as Jack pushed his way past him. They went downstairs to have a quick breakfast, briefly interacting to his parents and younger sister before Jack put on his walking boots. He has the day off now and he wanted to have a nice relaxing walk before chilling at home. "Try not to get yourself killed" David called out as he left, much to his mother's distaste.</p><p>"I'll try" Jack mumbled slamming the door shut. He sighed heavily, savouring the moment of peace and quiet. He hadn't had a moment of peace since he came back from the dead. <em>Just take a walk, you'll feel better</em> he told himself.</p><p>He walked around the house towards the back gate, which led to a side alley that ran between his house and the neighbouring house leading to the street in front. Jack adjusted his outfit to be more comfortable before unlocking the gate, stepping out into the alley and closing it behind it. When he spun back he found himself colliding with a young woman coming out of the opposite gate next door. "Ow" they both said as their foreheads bonked together, rather comically if anyone was watching, before they both started apologising to each other.</p><p>"I'm sorry" she said.</p><p>"I wasn't looking" he said.</p><p>"It was my fault" she said.</p><p>"No, I should've had my eyes ahead of me" he said.</p><p>When they both looked up, their faces lit up with surprise, each faced was a blast for their past. "Mira?" Jack laughed, breaking into a smile as he looked at the young woman. "Jesus, you are a blast from the past."</p><p>Mira smiled. "It hasn't been that long has it?"</p><p>"Long enough" he said, stepping forward to meet her in a welcome hug.</p><p>Mira Halls was literally the girl next door to Jackson White. Her grandmother lived next to his parents so they practically grew up together, becoming each other's oldest friends. Older than Jack knew Troy. They went to the same schools and lost touch when he went to university while she went into care work. But even when they were younger Jack knew she would land on her feet. Social media helped him keep track of the highlights, how she was happily building her career as a care worker in a nursing home. Thankfully, not the one that he might've demolished a week ago.</p><p>"So when did you get back in the neighbourhood?" Jack asked her. "And, why are you back? The place is still a dump."</p><p>Mira chuckled at Jack's typical sense of humour. He always did have a habit of speaking first and thinking later. But that's why she liked him so much. He speaks his mind. "Yesterday" she replied. "And it might be a dump, but it will always be home to me. How about you?"</p><p>"Never left" he explained. "Currently on holiday after completing my second year in university. It's been a week."</p><p>"I heard" she said, her gaze taking on a look of concern before changing the subject. "So what are you up to now?"</p><p>Jack shrugged. "Not much. I'm still figuring it out."</p><p>Mira nodded politely, digging her toe into the ground as they stood there awkwardly. "Well, I need to go into town and pick up a delivery" she said, looking down the alley towards the street. Jack took that as the cue to part ways and let her go about her day. But then she looked back and asked him "Would you like to walk with me? It'd be great to catch up. We could get a cup of tea, or hot chocolate." She clearly remembered Jack never got a taste for tea or coffee.</p><p>Jack thought about it, initially about to dismiss her so he could be alone. But he thought better of it and told her "I'm not doing much today. It'd be an honour" he said, offering his arm to her.</p><p>Mira looked at his arm and laughed. <em>Always the gentlemen</em> she thought as she took it, smiling at her new companion as they both walked through the alley into the street. It felt just like old times.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I get the feeling you don't like to talk about yourself Mr White.</p><p>
  <em>Not really, no.</em>
</p><p>And why is that?</p><p>
  <em>I'm not that interesting.</em>
</p><p>I find that hard to believe. I've spoken to many people and they all have something interesting to talk about.</p><p>
  <em>Oh yeah, like what?</em>
</p><p>Well, many have lived through their parent's separation and divorce, forcing them to grow sooner than they would've liked. Others have experienced traumatic events such as you have. Almost everyone I've spoken to have even suffered heartbreak. What about you?</p><p>
  <em>My parents are still together. We're all one big happy family. And I don't remember the alley much so it's not as traumatising as you might think. I just woke up in hospital and that was it.</em>
</p><p>I see. And what about heartbreak?</p><p>…</p><p>Would you like to discuss it?</p><p>
  <em>Not really.</em>
</p><p>Is it because it's confronting?</p><p>
  <em>It's just something I don't talk about.</em>
</p><p>So you've never discussed it with anyone? Not your family? Your friends?</p><p>…</p><p>Maybe you can discuss it with me. Some people find it easier to talk to a stranger than a loved one.</p><p>
  <em>I find it easier to not talk at all.</em>
</p><p>Then why are we here, Mr White?</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>Her name is Kassie.</em>
</p><p>…</p><p>Go on.</p><p>
  <em>I'd rather not.</em>
</p><p>Very well. Let's discuss your other friends. Would you say you have many?</p><p>
  <em>Depends what you mean by friends.</em>
</p><p>How would you define the term?</p><p>
  <em>There's friends as in people you know, which in my case would be a lot. I got to know most of the kids in my year back in school so I had many "friends". Same with university, I just know a lot of people. But then there are friends as in people you spend time with, people you get close to, who you hang out with and enjoy hanging out with. The way I see it, those people are friends and the rest are more acquaintances.</em>
</p><p>I understand. So how many of these real friends do you have?</p><p>
  <em>Now? A few in university. There's a group of us who hang out a lot. They're pretty great. Me, Dani, Ajay, Kadin, Daniel…</em>
</p><p>And Kassie?</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, and Kassie. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before that I didn't have many real friends. There was another group before but we mostly lost touch. Except for Troy. He's my best friend. Still is. We still hang out every so often. The others from back in the day, they were more Troy's friends than mine.</em>
</p><p>You didn't consider then as friends?</p><p>
  <em>Looking back, not really. They were okay. Well, most of them.</em>
</p><p>So apart from Troy, you didn't have many friends in school?</p><p>
  <em>Not really. Just the one or two.</em>
</p><p>One or two? Who was the second?</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>An old friend.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>12</p><p>Jackson and Mira walked arm in arm through the neighbourhood, idly chatting as they weaved through the streets exploring their home in more detail. Jack may not have left Ilkeston, but he never took the time to really look around every street. Mira left a couple of months ago to move to the other side of town, but she knew these streets like the back of her hand.</p><p>"So how are things with…? Charlie was it?" Jack asked as they cut through a side street, a shortcut to the town centre.</p><p>"Charlie's great" Mira replied, a large smile forming on her face at the mention of her girlfriend. Or rather, former girlfriend. "She's my fiancé now" she told him, showing the glittering ring on her finger.</p><p>Jack looked at it and nearly got blinded as the sunlight reflected off the diamond. "Yeah, I heard" he chuckled, gently shielding its glare with his hand. "Congratulations. So if you don't mind me asking, who asked first?"</p><p>"She did" she smiled, recalling the romantic evening she and Charlie had leading to the proposal. It was the most amazing night of her life. "We're still trying to set a date for the wedding. That's why I'm down here, so grandma can help me organise it."</p><p>"What about your mother?"</p><p>"She's doing the catering. And the dress. And the venue. Honestly, you'd think she was getting married."</p><p>"Just remember to tell her when she's wrong" Jack advise. "Remind her it's <em>your</em> wedding."</p><p>Mira hugged Jacks arm laughing. "See, that's why I missed having you around" she said. "You are so optimistic."</p><p>"I don't recall optimism being one of my core qualities" he argued. But he missed hanging out with Mira too. She seemed to find a part of Jack that he thought was just a fantasy, a spark of confidence that made him feel a little larger than life. Looking back, she was pretty much what Freya is to him now. His rock in the sea of madness.</p><p>They walked on a little further, passing houses and cars crossing the empty streets. Mira kept looking up at Jack, that uneasy and concerned look in her gaze. He predicted the question she was waiting to ask before she asked it. "I heard about what happened. How are you holding up?"</p><p>"I'm doing okay" he shrugged. "I think the whole world heard about my <em>accident</em>. But on the bright side, I got to sleep in for a whole week."</p><p>She shook her head in amazement. "You and your bright-side" she muttered, chuckling. She recalled a moment back in school when she had broken up with a boy. She was sitting by Jack's side drowning her sorrows when he decided to explain "At least you won't have to be polite about that haircut anymore." It succeeded in making her laugh. She really did hate her ex's greased hair. After being cheered up she was able to move on, and a lot of it was thanks to Jack being her friend. It wouldn't be the first time or the last. He was always there to make her laugh. There had been times she had considered dating Jackson instead, but she always knew she was attracted to girls so it would never have worked. But a girl could dream of the perfect boyfriend. Of course, he would swear he was far from perfect. "But seriously Jack" she said more sternly, pulling him to a stop so they could talk properly. "Are you sure you're okay? It must've been terrifying."</p><p>Jack paused as he tried to give her a reassuring look. "I don't really remember much about it" he lied, squashing the pang of guilt in his chest before Mira could pick it up. She always seemed to be pretty intuitive when it came to people lying to her, able to tell from fifty paces. He hoped he got better at hiding whatever cues she was reading. "But I'm fine. I promise."</p><p>Mira studied him carefully, narrowing her eyes with worry. "Okay" she said reluctantly. "I'm just glad you've alive."</p><p>"Me too" he replied as they continued walking.</p><p>The rest of the journey was silent, until the came to a small crowd of people gathering around a group of police cars in front of a building. A yellow tape was barricading the crowd from the uniformed officers while men in white coats passed in and out of the house, documenting stuff on fold away tables. Jackson and Mira arrived at the barricade to scan the scene curiously. "The hell is going on here?" he pondered as they watched for a few seconds until one of the uniforms asked them to move along. They froze when they saw a pair of paramedics carry a large black body bag out of the house.</p><p>"It seems somebody kicked the bucket late last night" a voice explained from behind them.</p><p>The two of them turned around and found a young man in a Mohawk standing right behind them. he was a few inches shorter than Mira, who herself was only and inch shorter than Jack, a thin young man dressed in a denim vest and ripped jeans, a metal rock band emblazed on his t-shirt. He had a chain around his neck with a skull and guitar hanging from it. He looked up at them both with piercing blue eyes. "Jesus Christ Karl, you about gave me a heart attack" Jack said when he saw him. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>"I could ask you the same" Karl Winters replied. "I was walking by when I saw the cars and ambulance. I overheard someone say they found a body inside. The owner they think."</p><p>"Oh my god" Mira said in shock.</p><p>Jack looked back at the house, using his phase powers to try and look inside like an x-ray. He still hadn't got the hang of adjusting for physical matter rather than straight into Limbo so all he saw was a few vague shapes and a feral Soulless husk in a separate dimension. "Anyone we know?" he asked, not really looking for an answer.</p><p>To his surprise, Karl told him "Last I heard, Joseph's old man lived here. Mr Stoke. An old drunk with anger problems. One of the neighbours heard screaming last night and assumed he was arguing with himself again, like he usually does. Then someone looked through the window this morning and found him in the living room."</p><p>"Do they know what happened?" Mira asked.</p><p>He shrugged. "Not sure. But apparently, the guys face was really mangled up. That's why they're struggling to identify him. And rumours is his body was all contorted and bloody. No one knows how he died but it sounds painful."</p><p>Jack was listening carefully, wondering if these "rumours" could be true. If they were, that would mean this could be another supernatural problem. Closing his eyes he tried to feel for something out of place. But his senses were still untrained and he got a lot of interference. But something didn't feel right inside that house. "Jack?" Mira tugged on his arm, grabbing his attention. "Are you okay?" She could see he was distracted.</p><p>"It's nothing" he replied quickly, giving up on sensing trouble. "It's just…" He hurried to think of something that might explain his wavering attention and found himself uneasy on another detail. "Joseph Stoke" he growled.</p><p>Karl chuckled. "He remembers you too. How long has it been since you two last met?" he asked.</p><p>Jack took a deep breath as a flood of emotions bubbled to the surface, followed by a slideshow of unwelcoming memories that made the young reaper clench his fist. Joseph Stoke was the one man Jackson White was happy to never see again after they left school. He was a bully and a thug, an intelligent thug but a distasteful human being. Though they were both part of a tight knit circle of friends, including Troy, Karl, Brodey and Jordan, Joseph and Jack were never friendly with each other. At first it was just Joseph being an annoying prick trying to bully Jack. But after a while Jack started pushing back, even speaking out against his antics and threatening behaviour to others. After that it was always one argument after another, with Joe always trying to push his buttons and provoke him into a fight. The closest Jack came to violence was their last fight, the last day he saw him. The day of their prom. Most of their year went, including Mira and Troy and the rest of them. Jack spent the whole evening avoiding Joseph so they wouldn't have to deal with each other, but Joe sought him out anyway. He wanted Jack to fight him, pushed every button he had. The final straw was the things he said about Mira and those ways he could "set her straight" as he put it. If Troy hadn't held Jack back he might've…Jack still wasn't sure how far he would've gone. So he left, went home and never looked back.</p><p>"Not long enough" he said at last, forcing his anger towards the man back where it belonged.</p><p>Karl shrugged, looking back at the building. "Doubt he'll be too broken up about this" he said thoughtfully. "He always hated the drunk." He looked at his watch and sighed. "Anyway, I'd best be off. See you around mate" he said, parting company with the two of them before disappearing into an alley.</p><p>Jack turned back to Mira, who was looking a couple of shades paler than usual. "You okay?" he asked.</p><p>She nodded. "Can we go?" she asked, her eyes darting to the body bag being bundled into the back of the van. Jack nodded, guiding her around the barricade so they could carry on down the street. As they left Jack couldn't shake an uneasy feeling he was getting coming out of that house.</p><p>Down in the ally, Karl pulled out his phone to search through the photos saved on his mobile. As he was flicking through them he got a text message: <em>WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?</em></p><p>He typed back his response with a sigh. <em>HOW SHOULD I KNOW?</em></p><p>
  <em>WEREN'T YOU WITH HIM ALL NIGHT?</em>
</p><p>Karl rubbed his eyes. <em>YOU THINK WE DID SOMETHING?</em></p><p>
  <em>DID HE?</em>
</p><p>Karl paused wondering how to answer that. He didn't know anything about what happened last night. Or did he? He pulled up the photo he was sent that morning, the photo that made him jump out of bed and sprint over here to investigate. A grainy image of Stoke laying on the floor of his living room, limbs contorted with boils and rashes covering his face, an expression of agony etched into his features.</p><p>Karl looked at the photo and felt a really cold shiver run up his spine as he texted back <em>I'M NOT SURE.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>13</p><p>An hour and a half later, Mira and Jackson were sitting in a café by the window patiently waiting for lunch. Around Mira's feet were a pair of shopping bags, containing the wedding supplies she had come into town to collect. Jack had accompanied her from one shop to the next, silently offering his assistance in carrying her stuff while she talked with the assistants. He didn't say much as she completed her tasks, lost inside his own head as memories from his past caught up to him. He recalled the days across five years in school when the six of them are all together, some of them enjoyable and the rest a variety of mundane or infuriating. Jack always felt like an outsider amongst the group, and members like Joseph loved to exploit that feeling further. Troy seemed to be the only friend Jack considered on his side, the rest falling in behind the more popular student. Fortunately Jack had other allies to turn to should he need them, and they would often turn to him too. Allies like Mira.</p><p>"You seem quiet" Mira said, sitting opposite Jackson in the café as the waitress brings their drinks to their table.</p><p>He looked up as she told them their food would be delivered in a few minutes, his mind snapping back to the present. "Sorry" he replied apologetically. "Got lost in the past for a while."</p><p>She crossed her arms and leant forward on the table. "Thinking about school?" she asked. "You shouldn't let Joseph get inside your head again. Not like last time." He looked back at her with surprise. "I was there at the prom with you, remember?"</p><p>"He was seriously asking for it" he argued. "And the things he said about you…"</p><p>"I know, they were horrible. But you don't need to stand up for everyone. He only said those things to provoke you." She sighed sadly, remembering the day of the prom too. What Joseph said upset her, but seeing the way Jackson almost lashed out at him… In that moment Jack terrified her. She never wanted to see him like that again, but Joseph always had a way of bringing the worst in him. "I never understood why you and he never got on."</p><p>"I guess we're just incompatible" he sighed. He looked out the window as a police car zipped by, following the main road that cuts through town. "We don't get many deaths in this town, do we?" he said thoughtfully.</p><p>"We have more than you might know about" she replied glumly. Jack wanted to ask how she was sure but guessed it's not a topic she would want to talk about.</p><p>"So, what really brought you back to town?" he asked her. "It can't just be to get help with the wedding. Aren't most of you family in your neighbourhood, not mine? Or is there a reunion I don't know about?"</p><p>Mira chuckled. "Mom was talking about having a big family barbecue to introduce Charlie to everyone, and grandma suggested we have it at her house. Although" she said thinking about it, "I did hear a few of our old teachers are putting together a school reunion for us in a few weeks. Talking about setting it up in the church hall by the roundabout."</p><p>"They want to try and get our year group back into the same room?" he scoffed laughing. "Good luck with that."</p><p>"Should I assume you will be declining their invitation?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.</p><p>"I'll probably be busy on that day" he replied with a smile. He might be wrong, but as much as he wouldn't mind seeing many of those old faces, it would probably be safer for his mental health and their physical health if he stayed away just in case he met someone he was trying to avoid. And if he did go, there's a good chance they might get interrupted by either a monster, or demon, or both looking to pit their strength against the grim reaper.</p><p>The waitress finally returned with their orders on plates. Mira had a pair of sandwiches with a side salad while Jack received a piping hot sausage cob plastered in brown sauce. He made no apologies. "So what have you been up to?" Mira asked him.</p><p>He shrugged, taking a bite out of his sandwich. "Nothing really. This and that, studying for university, figuring out what to do with my life. The usual."</p><p>"And how is university? Make any new friends?"</p><p>"A few. Fellow colleagues mainly. Sometimes we share a meal, have a drink or two and help out on projects. Most of our time is spent working on research or lectures. Christ, the lectures."</p><p>They shared a chuckle as they talk about their life after school, enjoying their lunch like two old friends. It had been a while since they hung out like this. It was nice. Jack was able to let his guard down for the first time in years. He felt at ease around Mira. Maybe because there's wasn't any baggage between them, or unrequited feelings. He didn't need to pretend around Mira. "Sounds like university life suits you" she said when they caught up to where they were at now.</p><p>"Yeah, I think it does" he smiled. "But it still has its dull moments. It's like school but with more homework. But then again, homework never got this fun. We made bird houses, clothing based around typography, bear in mind this was for a computer art course. Another example, Kassie and I got paired up to do a photo shoot in the streets around university, which got us dressed in costumes and everything."</p><p>Mira caught a glint in Jack's eye when he mentioned this girl's name, curiously asking "Who's Kassie?"</p><p>"A friend from the illustration course" he answered. "You'd like her. She's got a great sense of humour, incredibly smart and kind. Honestly, she's the perfect person to just talk to. Most of the others are too, like Dani and Kadin. Daniel is cool. Ajay though… Not to sound mean but Ajay has to be one of the most annoying people I've ever met. The rest of the Animation course are great though. We're all just a bunch of nerds really, so it's the perfect environment."</p><p>The way he became so animated spoke volumes. Mira couldn't stop herself smiling. He just seemed to light up all of a sudden, sounding so happy, especially when talking about this Kassie person. It reminded her of when she used to talk about Charlie when they first started dating. "That's sounds great" she said enthusiastically. "So how long have you and Kassie been together?"</p><p>The question stopped him dead in his tracks. "What! No, we're not together."</p><p>Mira blinked and she realised she'd made a huge mistake. "Oh, but I thought…"</p><p>"No, we're just friends" he said defensively. His demeanour quickly changed, as if she'd just offended him. "What made you think that?"</p><p>Mira quickly backpedalled, trying to figure out where she got it wrong. She was usually really good and this sort of thing. She thought she knew Jack well enough to read him clearly. "I'm sorry, I thought you were… It's just the way you…" She stopped talking. She just made a mistake. "I'm sorry."</p><p>He crossed him arms as he sat back in his seat, taking a slow breath as he shrugged. She hoped that meant he forgave her. But as she watched him sit there, retreating back into his own body like he used to when they were at school, she came to believe she wasn't wrong. She knew that look in Jack's eye when he talked about Kassie, she knew it well. Either he was lying and they are dating, or he wasn't and wished they were. She didn't trust herself to confront him and ask, deciding instead to return to her lunch.</p><p>Jack closed his eyes and mentally scolded himself. He wasn't sure what Mira had picked up on to make her assume he and Kassie were a couple, but he knew he couldn't just snap at her like he did. <em>This is what happens when you keep secrets</em> he reminded himself. He wasn't ready to openly talk about his feelings for Kassie, not even with close friends. Even Troy learnt to keep their distance. Freya knew more than they did and she had to pry the truth out of him with a crowbar.</p><p>After a few minutes of silence, Mira risked asking "So you're not seeing anybody right now?"</p><p>"No" he replied quietly. "I've been too busy, haven't really had time to look."</p><p>"Sounds lonely" she muttered.</p><p><em>You have no idea</em> he thought.</p><p>The awkward silence was suddenly shattered when Jack felt the brand on his hand warm up and a shiver run along his skin. Honing in on the threat like he was using spider sense (or reaper sense, as he was close to calling it), his head turned in time to see a large shape running towards the window. Acting on instinct, he reached over to grab Mira by the shoulder and throw them both out of their seats and onto the floor, using his body to shield her at the exact moment the glass shattered and shards rained over them.</p><p>There was a thundering crash as something leapt through the window into the café, landing with a thud in the middle of the room to be met with screams of terror. Jack looked up from the floor to find a growling hound-like creature glaring back at him. <em>Didn't I already kill you?</em> He found himself asking as the memory of a mangled black bog covered in blood and puss with menacing yellow eyes came to mind, this time in Kirk Hallam outside of a school. He didn't have time to puzzle over it as the hound snapped at the surrounding civilians, threatening to maul all of them.</p><p>Jack helped Mira to her feet and ushered her out of the building, following the panicking crowd running through the exit. "What is that thing?" Mira asked, her eyes wide staring at the monster tearing the café apart.</p><p>"I don't know, but we have to get out of here" Jack replied, leading her out of the building. But when he got to the exit he stopped, letting the crowd push ahead of him. When Mira saw this and turned back, he shooed her onwards. "Go! I'll be right behind you" he told her, waiting for her to reluctantly run while being carried by the crowd. Once she was out of sight, Jack stepped back into the café, waited for the last of the crowd to disperse, and then approached the rampaging hound. "Okay doggie" he said, reaching for his sword but realising he didn't bring it with him. <em>Oh right, it's my day off.</em></p><p>The hound dug its heels into the floor, growling at the young man as he circled around the creature. They stared each other down for a long minute, until the hound launched itself forward with an angry bark. Jack bent his knees and braced himself, waiting for the beast to get in close before he sidestepped the attack and slammed his right hand into the back of its skull. All his training with Azrael was starting to pay off as he easily manoeuvred his body behind the dog, igniting his hand into a fire ball and incinerating the hound in seconds. Compared to the fight with the last dog he fought, this one proved effortlessly easy.</p><p>Jack stood over the crumbling ashes of the creature, brushing off the dust from his jeans as he examined the remains. "That was easy" he muttered, looking at his palm as the brand continued to glow. He shrugged, picking up Mira's bags which they left under their table and then walked out of the building to reunite with her. He decided to call Azrael about this thing later, maybe ask him to get some new glasses. This was the second hound the fortress failed to detect.</p><p>As the door swung closed, the ashes on the floor began to melt into a black goo, an unsteady form growing out of the puddle as a pair of yellow eyes reopened.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>14</p><p>Jackson found Mira outside comforting an elderly couple by the bus stop, talking softly to them as they regained their composure. The hound bursting through the window must've been a huge shock to them, but the young woman was brilliant at her job. She stayed with them until Jack managed to find them, where she stood up and hugged him tight. "I was so worried" she told him. Then her eyes glanced down at her shopping bags in his hand and she asked him "Please tell me you didn't risk your life for my shopping?"</p><p>"Of course not" he replied modestly. "I was making sure everyone had gotten out safely and they just happen to be close by. Luckily that monster ran out through the back."</p><p>He hoped she believed the lie, though the expression she gave him was full of doubt. Fortunately the old couple she'd been helping interrupted, commenting at how lovely of a couple they appeared. They both got a little red faced, but neither had the heart to set them straight. Mira insisted they wait for someone to look after the couple, which wasn't long as the police arrived to investigate the disturbance along with an ambulance. Once they were comfortably with a young officer the two young people took their leave. They managed to slip away before the police could grill them with questions.</p><p>It was thankfully a quiet walk home, though Mira seemed very on edge after the whole ordeal. Jack took her hand and asked how she was doing. Naturally, being a care worker, she wasn't used to people asking about her wellbeing and tried to brush it off. Jack persisted and offered a shoulder to cry on. She declined, but she never let go of his hand until they were at the back gate of her grandma's house next door to his.</p><p>"I'm sorry lunch was cut short" Jack apologised, even though he knew he wasn't responsible for the hound attacking them. Ever since he became the reaper though, he was sure he was putting everyone around him in danger.</p><p>"That's okay" Mira replied with a smile. "You can't really plan for wild dogs can you?"</p><p>"I guess not" he laughed.</p><p>They reached the end of the alley and stood by the gates, still holding hands tightly. "Well, I guess this is where we part ways" Mira sighed sadly.</p><p>"If you are staying for a while, we're bound to run into each other again" he pointed out. That seemed to cheer her up. It cheered him up to. It would be nice to hang out with someone who didn't know about his other life. It would give him a chance to be normal again.</p><p>"You know" she said after thinking for a moment, "that barbecue grandma's putting on in my honour, it's next week. The whole family will be there, along with a few friends. And Charlie of course. I'd love for you to come too."</p><p>"Really?" he asked.</p><p>"Yes" she nodded. "It'd be right here, so very convenient for you."</p><p>"Very convenient" he mused. "And with no excuse for me not to be late either."</p><p>She smiled slyly. "Exactly. And I want you to meet my fiancé, so you can tell me what you think."</p><p>Jack chuckled. "Mira, you are already marrying the girl. Nothing I say would possibly change your mind now. Besides, I can't imagine you choosing anyone less than you deserve. So I'm sure she's perfect."</p><p>Mira almost got misty eyed at the sentiment, reaching forward to hug him tightly. "So you'll come?" she asked mid embrace.</p><p>"Of course" he replied. When the hug ended he also asked "And maybe while you're in the neighbourhood, we could hang out again?"</p><p>"I'd like that" she replied enthusiastically. "You can tell me more about these new friends of yours."</p><p>"Like Kassie" he queried, sensing the curious probe in her question.</p><p>"I am sorry if I misread the signals" she said quietly. But then she fixed her gaze on his. "But did I? Because from the way you were describing her, I could've sworn you have a thing for this girl."</p><p>Jack felt his cheeks flush red, hesitantly holding back the truth and telling her "We are just friends. Nothing more, I swear." A part of him wanted to tell her about his feelings for Kassie, but he wasn't ready just yet. "There is no broken heart for you to fix."</p><p>She stared at him a moment, squeezing his hands just like he had done that day she broke up with the boy in school. "I'm here if you want to talk about anything Jack" she told him. "Just knock, okay?" she let go and walked to the back gate. She paused before she stepped through, looking over her shoulder commenting "I wasn't going to say anything…but there's something different about you."</p><p>Jack put his hands on his hips nervously. "Good different or bad different?"</p><p>She smiled softly. "Like I always pictured you" she answered cryptically. "Till next time Jackson" she said, closing the gate behind you.</p><p>"Till next time Mira" he called back smiling.</p><p>Several hours later, just a few minutes to midnight, the resident pathologist at the Ilkeston Healthcare Centre, the local hospital, was preparing his examination of the morgue's most recent resident. Most of the staff at the hospital had clocked out around 10pm, but Dr Hartman liked to work the evening shift. Less distractions. As per standard procedure, he was accompanied by two nurses to help assist in his examination, plus an orderly who had volunteered to stay on a few more hours. Rumour was the man was having arguments with his wife and thus avoiding going home. Hartman didn't care, as long as he didn't get in the way.</p><p>His two nurses, one male the other female, each finished scrubbing up and were standing either side of the room at their respective posts. Hartman stood over the body of the deceased and examined him closely. He picked up a tape recorder and pressed record, speaking clearly into the microphone. "Unidentified male, aged approximately forty to fifty years of age. Well-built but clearly slacking in muscle, which is made up for in fat." Hartman wasn't known for being kind to his patients. "Upon first glance cause of death is…unknown. There are numerous boils and warts all over his body, along with what appear to be signs of scolding or burns. There are also bruises consistent with the broken bones as seen on the x-rays. I'll know more once I've opened the body up."</p><p>He paused in his recording and nodded to his assistants. The female stepped over with his tray of medical instruments, passing him the scalpel. Their hands met and they shared a knowing glance between each other, a promise of what was to come later that night, before returning to the job at hand. Across the room the male nurse rolled his eyes. The Doctor's reputation was notorious within the hospital.</p><p>Hartman leant over the dead body and carefully aligned the scalpel at the right shoulder, pressing in firmly and tracing the dotted lines along his skin to perform the practiced incision. He'd done so many of these Hartman was sure he could do them in his sleep.</p><p>He never finished the incision that night.</p><p>Just before the doctor reached the man's stomach, his eyes suddenly shot open and he gulped in a breath of stale air. The hospital staff all recoiled in shock as the dead body suddenly came to life. Then they screamed in terror as it shot out a powerful right hand, grabbing Dr Hartman by the throat. The man choked as the body pulled him closer, the unidentified man glaring at him with predatory eyes. But there was no life behind those eyes. Only death. The nurses all stood petrified as the doctor was lifted off his feet, his eyes bulging as the man's grip squeezed around his neck crushing his windpipe. Then an equally strong left hand reached up to grab him by the hair on top of his head before snapping it to the side with a sharp crack.</p><p>A few minutes later, the formerly dead man limped through the halls of the Healthcare Centre, covered in blood that wasn't his own, trailing crimson footprints behind him on the spotless floors. The naked man crossed the empty reception towards the front doors, which had been locked for the night. He pushed against the glass, straining furiously before shouting in rage, smashing through the glass doors cutting his hands and arms to ribbons. He didn't feel anything, stepping through broken glass into the cold night air, his dead eyes staring forward with only one objective in mind.</p><p>He most go home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>15</p><p>Since the man reintroduced himself into Troy's life, he and Brodey have been talking pretty much every day. Mostly on the phone, constantly catching each other up on what they've been up to since school. Troy was welcome for his old friend, giving him the lowdown on his life and tribulations. Whenever Jackson was brought up however, Troy cautiously dodged the topic so he didn't have to lie about his new life. Keeping his secret was starting to prove taxing. <em>How do you talk about your best friend when the most interesting thing in his life was becoming the Grim Reaper?</em></p><p>In the early morning, Troy was at home having just taken care of his dogs when his computer started to beep with notifications. He switched it on and opened the skype app, finding Brodey waiting on a video call. "An odd choice to call me on" he commented once the dark haired young man appeared on his screen.</p><p>"My phone died on me" he replied, his large face filling the screen. "So, have you asked him yet?" he asked.</p><p>"No, not yet."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>"He's been busy" he explained. "I've been busy. We aren't joined at the hip you know. Right now, you and I have been talking more than me and Jack have in months."</p><p>"It's just one phone call" Brodey insisted. "Just call Jack and ask him if he wants to join us on our night out. It's that simple."</p><p>Troy crossed his arms. "And when do we tell him about the rest of the gang?" he queried. "Or do you want to tell him it was Joseph's idea?"</p><p>Brodey hesitated. They both remembered how well Joseph and Jackson got on in school. Neither of them were in a hurry to reintroduce the pair in person. "How bad could it be?" he asked. "It was a long time ago. Joseph has mellowed out a little."</p><p>"How little?"</p><p>He wavered his hand, indicating not by much. "But Jack was always too sensitive. He was never any fun to be around."</p><p>"That's something Joseph would say" Troy argued. "And his idea of fun was to bully and terrorise people, including Jack. And you guys always backed him up."</p><p>"It's not like you really said anything in protest either" he spat back. The argument stalled as they took a deep breath, already growing tired of this fight. "Anyway, this is Jack we're talking about. What's the worst he could possibly do?"</p><p>"The worst he could do?" Troy growled, angry that Brodey thinks he is the one that would cause the aggravation. But inside, that was exactly what Troy was worried about. Joseph might still be the worst possible person they've ever met, but Jack had changed. He won't turn the other cheek this time, won't pretend to get along. And now he has superpowers. If the two of them get in a room and Joseph starts acting like a jerk again, Jack might just snap and rip the whole building apart.</p><p>As if on cue, his phone rang as the caller ID reveals Jackson's name. <em>Shit</em>, he thought, hoping everything was alright and not another monster invasion. He signalled to Brodey to be quiet, telling him Jack's on the other line. "Just ask him and get it other with" he told him before Troy muted the screen and turned off the microphone. He didn't want Brodey listening to anything that might give his friends secret identity away.</p><p>"Hey, what's up?" Troy greeted answering the call, turning away from the computer.</p><p>"I need some more excuses" Jack answered immediately, his voice cutting through the mobile. "My brother is asking a lot of questions and getting dangerously close to suspicious. I told him I've been visiting you so often I wouldn't be surprised if he paid you a visit of his own to see if I'm lying."</p><p>"I thought he wouldn't care?" he asked.</p><p>"Neither did I. But apparently I'm acting even stranger than usual, which warrants further investigation." He sighed. "Leading a double life is exhausting.</p><p>Troy shrugged, unsure how he could help. "I'm sure you'll figure it out" he told him. "And I'll cover for up if need be." He glanced back to the computer screen, where Brodey was silently giving him the thumbs up encouraging him to ask. "Listen, I might be getting a drink later today" he told his best friend. "If you need the distraction, you could join me. You wouldn't have to lie about this one."</p><p>"Yeah, that actually sounds like a good idea" Jack agreed.</p><p>"Oh, and Brodey might also be there" Troy quickly added. "He's been asking after you."</p><p>He felt Jack pause as he thought about it. "Sure, it'd be nice to catch up with him again. As long as he doesn't bring up the old days."</p><p>"Great" he said, grimacing behind the mobile. "I look forward to it. See you this evening."</p><p>He quickly hung up, releasing a slow nervous breath. The plan was to reintroduce Jack and Brodey at the pub tonight and hopefully they could both explain the pub crawl and Joseph's involvement. With luck, he can convince him to join them without triggering an episode. Maybe with Joseph not around they can talk about it. He turned around and found Brodey still in the video chat, his arms crossed with an eyebrow raised.</p><p>"You didn't ask him, did you?" he said the moment they were unmuted.</p><p>"I asked him to join us later today" he explained. "Then we can both ask him. It'll be easier face to face."</p><p>"The worse thing he could do is say no."</p><p>"If he knew Joseph was there he would defiantly say no. But then he might come because I asked him to, knowing I'd want him to be there. And if he does that, we'll all be sitting on a powder keg waiting for him and Joseph to get into another fight. But if he doesn't come…" He sat down sulking quietly. "How many times did we all go for a night out, or hang out at each other's houses, without inviting Jackson along?" he asked his old friend.</p><p>Brodey was caught off guard for a moment. "I've never really thought about it" he admitted thoughtfully. "But it was never much of Jackson's scene, was it? And be honest, would we have had as much fun if he was there?"</p><p><em>That's what he once said</em>, Troy thought, recalling a rather sombre conversation he and Jack had not long before his accident in Derby. Jack had been doing a lot of contemplating around his life choices and it suddenly struck him he wasn't there for pretty much all of Troy's big nights out with his friends. Until that moment Troy didn't realise how left out Jack must've felt all those years. No wonder he felt so lost.</p><p>"I don't want to repeat the same mistakes again" Troy said determined. "I want Jack to join us. I just hope he and Joseph can try and get along for a few hours."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So tell me about these friends of yours.</p><p>
  <em>Which ones?</em>
</p><p>Whichever you feel comfortable talking about.</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>I suppose I could tell you about Troy.</em>
</p><p>Very well.</p><p>
  <em>Troy Anderson has been my best friend for years. Really as far as I can remember. I think we met back in nursery, or just before. Honestly, I don't remember that far back. But whenever we met, we've been friends ever since. We went to the same schools right up to sixth form. Then we split up so I could go to university and he…actually, I'm sure what he does right now. I think he's working with his brother. But we stay in touch every so often. He the only one from school I'm still in contact with.</em>
</p><p>Why is that?</p><p>
  <em>He's one of the only people I got along with.</em>
</p><p>You never tried to stay in touch with anyone else?</p><p>
  <em>Mira moved away to study nursing and get a job in care work. Brodey always wanted to be an engineer and went to college in Nottingham to study. Jordan moved to Nottingham too. Karl… Karl had some personal things to deal with.</em>
</p><p>What kind of personal things?</p><p>
  <em>Family stuff. I don't know much and I didn't ask. It's not my business. He dropped off social media before I finally took it up.</em>
</p><p>Were they what you would call friends?</p><p>
  <em>Just Mira. The rest were more acquaintances, Troy's friends rather than mine. I just hung out around them.</em>
</p><p>Why didn't you consider them friends? Did you not like them?</p><p>
  <em>No, they were okay. We got along just fine. It wasn't them I had a problem with.</em>
</p><p>Who did you have a problem with?</p><p>…</p><p>Are you okay? You seem agitated.</p><p>
  <em>I'm fine. I just…</em>
</p><p>…</p><p>Is something bothering you?</p><p>
  <em>Thinking about Joseph always bothers me. </em>
</p><p>Who's joseph?</p><p>
  <em>Joseph Stoke.</em>
</p><p>And who is he?</p><p>
  <em>He is the biggest prick I have ever had the misfortune of knowing.</em>
</p><p>You don't like him?</p><p>
  <em>No, I detest him. And trust me, the feeling is mutual.</em>
</p><p>Why?</p><p>
  <em>Why? Good question. Where to start? Let's start with the first time I met that arsehole. It was the first year of secondary school, the first day in a new school. I was finding my way around the new classrooms, reading the maps and timetables and finally finding my way to the cafeteria during lunchtime. I was in the line for the till and suddenly this prick comes barging through the line, knocking over a couple of kids laughing and jeering. He almost knocked me over, but I held my tongue. I was a quiet kid back then. Later that day I met him again, this time giving another kid a hard time, just being a bully. I knew right away I didn't like him.</em>
</p><p>And then you became friends.</p><p>
  <em>And then he barged his way into our group. Troy started gathering his friends and I went along, and somehow Joseph managed to just insert himself into our group. I didn't say anything because Troy seemed to like him. But Joseph seemed to just get worse. He picked on everyone, bullied people to get his way, humiliated people just for fun and there were rumours he had done worse. At some point I stopped looking the over way and just told him to stop. That started our infamous rivalry of arguments and hostility. I sometimes tried to make peace with him, but he wasn't interested in becoming friendly. Honestly, neither was I. I started staying out of his way, but I kept speaking out when I saw him abusing other people. </em>
</p><p>Did you try talking to the teachers?</p><p>
  <em>Repeatedly. But there wasn't a lot they could do to stop him, not all the time. Plus it just made Joseph even angrier, which made him retaliate against me and other people. Those acquaintances of mine started taking his side, either because they liked him more or they were afraid of getting on his bad side. Troy tried to play peacemaker, but he ended up stuck in the middle.</em>
</p><p>He didn't take your side in this rivalry?</p><p>
  <em>I never asked him to.</em>
</p><p>Why not? It sounds likes you didn't have anybody in your corner.</p><p>
  <em>I had people in my corner. Both Troy and Mira had my back. But I wasn't going to start a civil war in the middle of the school. That's what Joseph wanted. He wanted a fight. He wanted to prove he was the alpha dog. I wasn't fighting him in the playground. I was playing smart. Used my words like my parents taught me. Undermined his reputation piece by piece. I wasn't out to hurt him. I just wanted everyone to see him for the bully he was so they could stand their ground against him. I wanted him to stop, that's all.</em>
</p><p>But still, with everyone siding with him that must've hurt you.</p><p>
  <em>I'll admit it didn't help.</em>
</p><p>How long did this rivalry last?</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>It never ended.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>16</p><p>Jack hung up his mobile, but he couldn't shake an icy shiver from creeping up his spine. The last time he felt this particular shiver he was still in school, a feeling of dread he got every time he saw a particular individual. He shook away the memory. After this week's events he figured his mind was playing tricks on him. <em>It's just drinks with Troy and Brodey. What's the worst that could happen?</em></p><p>He walked down the side street in the middle of town, glancing over his shoulder before phasing into Limbo to find the soul-gate. He always tried to use this entrance when he could. He liked the Soul-bridge to immediately transport himself from his house to the fortress, but there was something rather cathartic about walking through the front door. His mind was on his family, particularly his brother who was still asking questions about where he was going every day. He was getting sick of lying and pretending, but he couldn't just tell him either. <em>What the hell am I going to do?</em></p><p>He stepped through the gate and once more found himself outside the massive entrance to the fortress floating in the Well of Souls, pushing the heavy doors open to walk through the dark hallways. The fortress was a sentient extension of the Well of Souls, a living labyrinth that can change its pathways to confuse intruders and assist its inhabitants. And yet the maze somehow knew Jack needed the walk, altering his journey so instead of arriving immediately in the observation deck he explored the rest of the obsidian structure, passing through chambers and halls larger than a house, peeking into the Court of Judges and the celestial stables.</p><p><em>You can't hide forever</em>, a voice told him.</p><p>He stopped and looked around, but there was nobody there. He stood in silence wondering where he voice came from. It sounded familiar. But after a few minutes he couldn't hear it again. So he shrugged and kept walking, ready to find his allies. The maze shifted again, the next door he opened leading directly to the observation deck where Azrael and Freya were posted looking up into the multiverse above.</p><p>Freya heard him walk in, turning away from the balcony to greet him. "Hey, you're here!" she smiled. She saw his expression and narrowed her eyes. "Are you okay? You look tense."</p><p>He sighed wistfully as he slumped down onto the steps beside her. "It's my brother" he told her. "He's getting relentless with his questions. He's noticed I've been acting suspicious. He knows I'm lying and he's determined to find out why."</p><p>"And that's why reapers stay dead" Azrael replied bluntly from his throne. "No baggage, no complications." He looked over his shoulder down at the young man. "I don't know why you decided to return to your mortal body and to return to your mortal life."</p><p>"It seemed like a good idea at the time" he mumbled, resting his arms on his knees. He sometimes wondered why he didn't just go through with pulling the plug on his body all those weeks ago. But between his brief visit from the Well of Souls herself and the drive to bring things back to normal, Jackson realized that he needed to change the game. No Reaper had been killed before Marcus, somebody and done the impossible, so Jack needed to adapt too. Returning to his mortal body changed the game board, set new rules for his powers, and altered the game. For better or worse. It was too late to turn back now, he just had to adjust to this new lifestyle. He had to get better at separating his mortal life from his immortal one.</p><p>"While we're on the subject" Jack said rising to his feet, "how's our progress at finding out who or what murdered a Reaper?"</p><p>Azrael suddenly grumbled in frustration. "Not yet. Every lead we find just leads to dead ends." His knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of his chair angrily. He'd been scouring the multiverse for clues ever since Marcus passed away, keeping his investigation open until he would find the killer. But none of them have had any success yet. Marcus's room was untouched, his crime board now littered with threads and photos and newspaper articles, and Azrael would spend hours monitoring the cosmos for any trace of the culprit. And every day he failed to find a lead, which frustrated the Angel of Death further.</p><p>He drew a sharp breath, composing himself, before snapping back to Jackson "For now, we should focus our efforts on your training. You still need to learn how to wield that scythe of yours."</p><p>Jack cringed inwardly, feeling the electric tingle along his arm whenever he felt the scythe nearby. Right now it was sat comfortably in Marcus' room, as far away from Jack's room as he could get it. He hadn't used it since that day in Derby. He didn't want to, no matter how much he could feel it drawn to him like a magnet. "What about that hell-hound I fought yesterday?" he asked, diverting the topic. "Any idea where it came from?"</p><p>"No, same as the last one" Freya replied, walking back up to the balcony where Jack realised they weren't looking into space. They were looking at dozens of holographic screens broadcast through the telepathic link with the fortress. "I've checked everything in the fortress, but there was no record of a breach or incursion. So I've tried monitoring the local media networks in your area for any hints. But apart from some unconfirmed claims of wild dog attacks, there is nothing."</p><p>Jack looked up at the screens, seeing images from news networks, social media, satellite imagery, TV shows… "You get cable down here?" he asked in shock and amazement.</p><p>"One of your predecessors thought it might serve us well to monitor the mortal realms media outlets" Azrael explained rather dismissively. "I believed it would operate as a second source of information in the event of an incursion, monitoring your news sites as they reported on the incident. I'll never understand your need to film everything you see."</p><p><em>Neither do we</em> a voice in Jack's head mused. Jack blinked. It didn't sound like his voice. But he didn't argue with it. "It's good to know I can keep up to date on my programmes from here" he joked.</p><p>"Thousands of channels from across the world" Freya sighed. "And yet still nothing worth watching."</p><p>"Welcome to daytime TV" Jack laughed. "So what did the White City do for entertainment?" he asked curiously, knowing mentioning Freya's former home might prove a poor choice of topic.</p><p>She glanced across to him and shrugged. "Define entertainment."</p><p>"What did you do to relax?"</p><p>"I don't think we ever did" she said thoughtfully. "As far as I can remember, if you weren't studying you were training, when you're not training you were attending lectures on the history of the three realms. I think the only down time we had was the four hours of sleep we got per cycle."</p><p>"Four hours? I thought the suggested healthy pattern was eight?"</p><p>"For mortal's maybe" she said. "But we angels had too much to do to waste time sleeping. But thinking about it" she added after thinking about it, "I guess the closest we got to your version of entertainment was the public demonstrations, when the elite or graduating members of our society performed their trademark routines and sparring matches." He eyes suddenly when glassy, her focus falling into the distant past. "I remember my dad took me to see the Honour Guard perform at the coronation of the Archangel Vale. The way they moved through the air, the sun glowing from their armour, it was inspiring."</p><p>Jack looked at her with this gleam in her eye, realising this was the first time she'd opened up about her home. When it came up in the past she'd always go quiet and he'd divert the conversation to spare her feelings. Now he had learnt just a little bit more about her life. A good sign for their friendship, he thought. He looked back up at the holographic screens, scanning the new programmes until he found a report from the BBC. "What's that?" he asked pointing up at the image of a woman standing in front of a hospital.</p><p>The moment he pointed at the screen, the screen reacted to his mental request and enlarged, giving the three of them a clear view of the dark haired reporter standing with a microphone talking to the camera. "<em>Reports are still coming in of the dozens of casualties throughout the complex, some so horrific that our own producers are refusing to allow footage to be filmed. Once again, I'm outside the Healthcare Centre here in Ilkeston where a savage attack has taken place. Though nobody is willing to make a comment, many are speculating the bloodshed started inside the hospital mortuary where approximately five bodies were discovered early this morning.</em>"</p><p><em>Bloody hell</em>, Jack thought as he listened to the report. He recognised the building behind her. The hospital was approximately ten yards from his house. He used to be taken there whenever he or his siblings got an injury. "This has to be one of ours" he said to the others.</p><p>"It could just be an ordinary mortal incident" Freya objected.</p><p>"I've lived in Ilkeston all my life" he argued. "We don't get massacres on this scale. Not until we had monsters running around. This has to be an incursion."</p><p>"If this was an incursion, or any kind of supernatural presence, the Well would've notified us" Azrael growled. "This has nothing to do with us."</p><p>"Is this the same Well that noticed the ball of flesh from last week?" Jack countered. "Or the hounds that have been bugging me during my days off?"</p><p>"We could just take a look?" Freya suggested.</p><p>"The site is too exposed" Azrael told them. "Too many mortals with cameras. You'd be unnecessarily exposing yourselves. You know what happens to angels who reveal themselves to mortals" he told Freya, who looked down in shame. "There's nothing to investigate."</p><p>"At least five people died in that hospital" Jack yelled. "It sounds like it's worth investigating."</p><p>"Not every incident in the mortal world is the results of the supernatural, boy" he snapped. "Sometimes it simply proves that humanity is as vile and cruel as they've always been. I've seen a hundred of these massacres, most on a much bigger scale than this. So instead of chasing the perpetrators of a minor civil dispute, maybe you can focus your energy on your training for a more productive crisis."</p><p>"But…"</p><p>"But nothing" he growled, jumping out of his seat to stand over the boy. Their glares met and Jack felt the heat behind Azrael's challenging gaze forcing him into submission. "Consider this your next lesson" he whispered quietly. "Priorities. You need to prioritise the many over the few. Focus on the defence of the mortal realm from the outside and not the dribble within. That's an order."</p><p>Jack struggled to hold his nerve as the angel towered over him. But finally his gaze dropped and he stepped back. Azrael looked down his nose and scoffed, turning his back on the boy to retire to another chamber. Freya stood quietly off to the side, her hands crossed in front nervously as she watched the scolding older man leave, until he barked for her to follow. She glanced back at Jack with an apologetic expression before obediently following on his heels.</p><p>Jack turned and leant against the balcony, disheartened and embarrassed. He felt the dark cloud hovering above him close in again, threatening to choke the air from his lungs. But then he drew a deep breath, his fingers clenching around the banister as he brought his head up to look back at the news screen still reporting the incident. He knew he was right. This needed to be investigated. He could feel it.</p><p><em>So what are you going to do about it?</em> The little voice in his head asked him.</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>17</p><p>Troy reached <em>The</em> <em>Acorn</em> minutes before Brodey joined him, sitting by the bar and ordering a drink for himself and his eventual companions. He ordered a Stella for himself, a Guinness for Brodey when he arrived, and a cider for Jack in preparation for his arrival. The two of them sat side by side in the same seats they had taken a few days ago.</p><p>"So how long did he say he'd be?" Brodey asked checking his watch. They had been sitting at the bar for half an hour, with no sign of Jackson coming through the door.</p><p>Troy checked his phone, reading the clock and checking for any text messages. He had sent a text confirming the time a few hours ago and Jack replied promising to be there. "He should be here any minute" he said optimistically. "He's not usually late." <em>Except he is tonight</em> he thought silently, glancing to his stale glass of cider.</p><p>"If you say so" Brodey shrugged, taking a large sip from his drink.</p><p>Suddenly the front door opened, the tiny bell ringing telling the owners of a new customer. Troy and Brodey heard this and each turned to face the entrance, expecting their final drinking partner to finally join them. But instead they are greeted by a shorter, thinner young man with a Mohawk haircut dressed in denim.</p><p>"Oh, hello" Brodey said with a reluctant smile. "Fancy seeing you here" he said, stepping up to meet the newcomer. Troy stayed sat in his seat, surprised and vaguely overjoyed to find another of his old friends standing before him. Like Brodey, he hadn't seen Karl Winters since school.</p><p>Karl shook Brodey's hand, smiling broadly at the pair of them. "I heard through the grapevine I might find you two here" he told them. Troy gave him a confused look until he caught Brodey's eye, realising he must've let their plans slip. "Jordan's on his way to" Karl told them. "We were on a night out of our own and thought we might join you. If you don't mind, that is."</p><p>"Of course not!" Brodey beamed. "The more the merrier." He wrapped his arm around both of them, embracing them in a big bear hug. "Look at us. Just like old times, once the rest of the old crew get here. We're currently waiting on Troy's plus one" he told Karl.</p><p>"Who?" he asked curiously.</p><p>Troy shrugged Brodey off his shoulders. "Jack" he explained. "I had arranged for him to join me and Brodey, and now you and Jordan, for a drink. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you after all this time."</p><p>"Actually, we already met" he replied.</p><p>That caught Troy by surprise. "When?"</p><p>"Yesterday" he explained. "I saw him passing by Stoke's house on their way to town. You'll never guess who he was with." He paused to give them a chance, but neither were patient enough for games. "Mira Halls."</p><p>"Mira? As in our Mira from school" Brodey stammered confused. "Isn't see engaged now?"</p><p>"And on the other side of town?" Troy echoed.</p><p>Karl shrugged. "I'm just telling you what I saw. They were together when I found them, arm in arm, getting really friendly."</p><p>"They must just have been catching up" Troy said.</p><p>Brodey stroked his stubble chin. "Wasn't there a rumour that the two of them had hooked up after the prom?"</p><p>"By "hooked up" you mean <em>shagged</em>" Karl corrected. "Sadly, school had ended by then and nobody got the chance to ask them."</p><p>"Joseph was the one who started that rumour, remember" Troy pointed out sternly. "After what happened, I'm pretty sure he was just trying to cause trouble. Lest we forget the big flaw in the logic behind this rumour."</p><p>"That's Jack's a prude" Karl laughed.</p><p>"That Mira is gay."</p><p>The discussion finally came to a close as Brodey shrugged, commenting "Hey, at least you got to see our wandering adventurer this summer. I've yet to lay eyes on him. How'd he look?" he asked Karl.</p><p>"Same as always" he answered. "Until Joseph came up in conversation. Then he got a bit sour."</p><p>Troy stayed silent. Suddenly inviting Jack to the drinks fest seemed like a bad idea. He checked his phone again. <em>Where the hell are you? Or is that the answer, Hell?</em> At that moment, as if on cue, Jack's caller ID pinged on his mobile. <em>Finally</em>, he thought, stepping out of his seat to take the call outside. He told his mates to wait while he answered the phone. "Where are you? Are you okay?" he asked immediately.</p><p>"I'm fine" Jack's voice replied. He had that sad, disappointed tone again, the one he used when he was about to apologise. Troy sighed before Jack even finished talking. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to bail of drinks tonight. Something came up."</p><p>"Really, now?" Troy snapped. "Can't you put it off for one night? We're all here. Me and Brodey, even Karl and Jordan have shown up. They all want to say hi. And we need to talk" he told him.</p><p>"Talk about what?" he asked.</p><p>Troy hesitated. "Just…Better to tell you in person."</p><p>Jack paused and he heard a slow sigh of regret across the line. "I'm sorry" he apologised. "I can't make it. I'll try and meet up later, but you shouldn't hold your breath. It's…work related."</p><p>"Is it another monster from Hell terrorising the town?"</p><p>"I don't know. That's why I need to deal with it. I hope not, but still… I'm sorry."</p><p>Troy grumbled to himself, but he couldn't stay mad at him. He was doing something important. He wouldn't skip hanging out with him if it wasn't important. "Fine" he sigh. "Take care a guess."</p><p>"Thanks" Jack said. "Maybe we can meet up tomorrow and talk then. Have a good night Troy."</p><p>"Goodnight" he replied as the phone hung up.</p><p>With a despondent grumble he walked back into the pub, where he found both Brodey and Karl leaning against the bar looking back at him. "He's not coming, is he?" Brodey asked.</p><p>Troy shook his head. "Something came up. Something he couldn't cancel."</p><p>Karl narrowed his eyes. "What could he be doing at this time in the evening?"</p><p>"Getting laid?" Brodey suggested jokingly, earning a laugh from his mate.</p><p>Troy chuckled alongside them as he tipped the waiting cider down into the sink behind the bar. <em>If only it could be that simple</em> he thought to himself. He didn't want to consider any alternatives.</p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>18</p><p>The sun started setting around half nine in the evening, the bright blue sky slowly replaced by the dull darkness, the sun vanishing behind the horizon to be replaced by a fait outline of the moon obscured by the clouds and light pollution. Fortunately Ilkeston wasn't a bustling city, so Jack was able to glimpse the sight of stars through the fog. But his focus wasn't on the night sky tonight. It was on the police barricade surrounding the HealthCare Centre.</p><p>Most of the officers have already left for the night, leaving a single pair of police cars and a skeleton crew of uniforms to patrol the police tape and surrounding area of the building. All of the patients had been temporarily relocated to other facilities, leaving the building virtually empty until the crime scene had been cleaned up. According to the news articles he could find, it could be weeks before the healthcare centre was back to normal. Which begs the question, <em>what happened?</em></p><p>Standing in the middle of the street Jackson scanned the barricade placed to keep people out, maybe also seeing if the one responsible will return, and took a breath. He wasn't a natural rule breaker. He liked doing as he was told, following the law, being the good guy. But for him to investigate, it would mean breaking into a crime scene and not getting caught. The worst part though is that it was so easy to sneak inside. He was a Phasewalker after all. All he needed to do was step across into Limbo, follow the path into the crumbling parallel version of the hospital, and use his vision to find the morgue before phasing back into the mortal realm after checking the coast was clear.</p><p>The limbo version of the morgue was empty, decrepit and vacant. However, as far as Jack could sense, it had no indications that there had been a breach in the area. No portals where a demon or ghost could've escaped. And Jack's senses were improving now the angels were teaching him what to look for.</p><p>
  <em>There's nothing here kid. You should move on.</em>
</p><p>"I have to check, in case I miss something."</p><p>
  <em>If there was even a hint of a supernatural presence in this dimension, you would sense it. There wasn't a breach. This isn't an incursion. You're wasting your time.</em>
</p><p>"Maybe" he sighed, casting one last look around.</p><p>He's noticed he's having a lot more of these conversations with himself like this. They've gotten more comprehensive, like he was arguing with someone else inside his head. But he was used to listening to his own voice so it wasn't new. So, ignoring the advice of his subconscious, he stepped through the barrier of reality and phased into the empty morgue.</p><p>The moment he stepped out into the dark room he was met with the smell of blood and urine. He quickly covered his nose, repelled by the shocking scent, as he looked around the room to find the blood stains covering the floor and walls, even dripping from the ceiling. Police tape was strewn across the doors to the corridor and yellow cones dotted the room highlighting locations of evidence. Jack hurriedly watched his step, looking down realising he was standing in a pool of blood and now trailing footprints. "Shit!" he yelped leaping off to the side.</p><p>The sound drew a light from outside the room as a figure walked up to the door. Jack ducked behind a cabinet as the torch light scanned the room searching for intruders. Outside the police officer peered through the small window, scanning the empty room as the circle of light panned across the crime scene. After a minute of patiently waiting, remaining as still and silent as possible, Jack heard the officer walking away, the light vanishing back into the corridor. He carefully peered out of hiding to make sure he wasn't coming back, trying to use his phase vision to see through the walls tracking his movements. But he hadn't got the hang of controlling his vision yet so he kept seeing through the whole multiverse. <em>How did I do this back in Paris?</em></p><p>As a result, he wasn't aware of the other figure creeping up behind him until their hand was on his shoulder.</p><p>"HOLY CRA..!" Jack screamed until him manged to silence himself, trying not to bring the officer back again. He whirled around to find Freya standing right behind him, her scream echoing around them as they both jumped from shock. "Freya?" Jack snapped, realising who she was. "What are you doing? Are trying to give me a heart attack?"</p><p>"I'm sorry" she stammered apologetically. "I saw you come in and I didn't mean to scare you…"</p><p>"Shhh!" he shushed her, ushering her behind the cabinet as he stared at the door. "Quiet before the security guard comes back."</p><p>She glanced back at the door, but appeared unconcerned. "Oh, he can't hear us" she explained to the perplexed reaper. "I put a noise muffling charm on the room when I got here. That's what I was going to tell you."</p><p>Jack wasn't sure he believed her, but the look in her face telling him to trust her was deafening. "Okay" he sighed, stepping out of cover to check to door anyway. He reached out to the door and felt it, the thin layer of magic enveloping the room. "How'd you get in here?" he asked her, talking normally now as he re-joined the young angel.</p><p>She shrugged. "I used to follow Marcus everywhere. He liked breaking into places too, so I kind of learnt how to do it myself. I can't pick a lock, but I know a spell that can."</p><p>Jack was impressed. He had his shortcut, but Freya was able to sneak past multiple mortals and not get spotted. Then again, she had magic on her side so she could've cheated by turning herself invisible. "How long have you been here?" he asked her.</p><p>"I arrived just before you did" she replied.</p><p>"You thought something was off about this crime scene too?"</p><p>"I figured we should at least look" she nodded. "But I can't see any sign of a breach or a demon, except the mess." She covered her nose from the smell as she leant over a large puddle of blood on the operating table in the middle of the room. "What do you think happened?"</p><p>"I don't know" he said scanning the scene. He had to keep squinting his eyes to make out details. "I don't think my night vision has kicked in yet" he grumbled aloud.</p><p>Freya rubbed her hands together and traced a tiny symbol into her palm, whispering <em>light</em> summoning a tiny ball of illumination in her hand. She raised the orb of light above her head, illuminating the morgue in a soft yellow glow. The sight of crimson covering the floor and wall however nearly made her choke, including shreds of clothing, speckles of other fleshy stuff and more black ooze which may or may not have come from other bodily organs. "Oh creator" she yelped, the light in her hand almost flickering out.</p><p>Jackson looked around at the massacre and grimaced. <em>What the hell could've done all of this?</em> "I don't suppose you have a spell that can reconstruct what happened?" he asked Freya optimistically.</p><p>"I don't know anything that advanced" she said shaking her head. "Marcus always had a way of visualising places like this, but I don't think it was a specific power he had."</p><p>
  <em>Pays to be a detective before you die.</em>
</p><p>"That would help" Jack muttered.</p><p>"What?" Freya said looked up at him.</p><p>"Marcus was a detective right?" he explained. "So he already had a knack for solving crimes, finding evidence. Meanwhile my greatest life skills including drawing, making up stories, talking too much…" His gaze suddenly looked up and spotted something that gave him some hope. "And seeing things others might miss" he smiled, pointing up to the security camera placed comfortably in the far corner aimed directly at the operating table.</p><p>Freya kept the orb of light in her hand as she followed Jack out of the morgue, ducking under the police tape into the corridor outside. They looked left and right searching for any sign of security, or anyone who might be patrolling the building. After realising the morgue had cameras that might have recorded the incident he suggested Freya stay hidden behind her sound dampening spell, but she argued for going with him. So after removing the muffle spell they made their way carefully through the dark corridors in search of the security room. Fortunately everything was labelled in each corridor, including the security room. And the pair of them were lucky not to run into anyone along the way, even with the risk of Freya light. They found the door near the back of the building, which predictably was locked. Jack took that opportunity to test the lock picking feature on his Hellfire Brand, pressing his palm against the lock and channelling his magic until he heard the click. The first time he discovered this ability he'd unlocked Freya's door, burning away the protective seal she'd placed upon it. The second time, he was locked out of the house by accident and accidently manipulated the latch to get inside. He stepped to the side and waved Freya in, who gave him an impressed smile before ducking into the small interior.</p><p>"What are we looking for?" Freya asked as she scanned the cramped space. Along one wall was three rows of monitors, all switched off and blank. Below them was a long desk with several computers and a pair of chairs. Along the opposite wall was a large whiteboard scrawled with names and dates, an itinerary and schedule for the weekly shifts. Next to it was a tall bookshelf filled with folders, books and documents. A filing cabinet sat at the far end opposite the door. Freya's ball of light lit up the small space so they could both see clearly.</p><p>Jack closed the door and stepped past Freya, sitting in one of the chairs to turn on one of the computers. "Hospitals like this are open all hours" he explained as the screen flickered to life. "So theoretically these cameras should've recorded everything that happened."</p><p>"Wouldn't the police have taken those tapes when they investigated?" she asked, watching Jack search through the file directories.</p><p>The security inside this system was ridicules. Jack didn't meet a single password blockade. But Freya was right, the police should've already taken copies of the hard drives. Or in this case, the hard drives themselves. He wasn't an expert in police procedure, but there should've been at least a copy of the tapes still here for the hospital. But there was nothing. They took all evidence of the event. "I guess they did" he said defeated.</p><p>But as he stared at the computer screen, he found an unnamed drive attached to the system. He slid out of his chair and crawled under the desk to check the computer towers, finding an external hard drive hidden around the back plugged into one of the towers. <em>The hell is this?</em> He thought as he unplugged the drive, standing back to show the small metal box to his partner.</p><p>"What is that?" Freya asked staring at the small object in Jack's hand.</p><p>"Another hard drive" he said.</p><p>"Why wouldn't they have taken this one?"</p><p>"It was hidden so well I'm surprised we found it. It doesn't look like something that belongs" he muttered, examining the love heart stickers on its shell. "So someone else plugged it in." He looked over the drive and decided "If this is a backup, then my computer back home should be able to run it." He checked his watch. It was almost half ten. His parents would have questions if he waited any longer. "Crap, I need to get home."</p><p>"Okay" Freya said, disappointed. "Maybe we can pick this up tomorrow?" she suggested.</p><p>Jack nodded. "Tell you what, the family are supposed to be going out tomorrow to do some shopping in Nottingham. I can make an excuse to stay home, and then you can meet me there around midday?"</p><p>"Great" she beamed. She extinguished the light and held her pendant. Instead of revealing her wings she used it to communicate with the soul-bridge, an extra enchantment she'd added a few months ago. "I'll drop you off at your house and I'll head back to the fortress before Azrael notices I'm missing."</p><p>Jack nodded, standing perfectly still as the air around them started to shimmer. He could've summoned the soul-bridge himself, having been taught the spell every reaper uses to transport themselves through it on a whim, but let the angel do her thing as they vanished in a rainbow as a deafening <em>BOOM</em> shook the security room, knocking papers and folders off the shelves as they disappeared into thin air.</p>
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<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>19</p><p>While Jackson and Freya were sneaking around the empty healthcare centre, across town Troy was laughing with his mates around a table in <em>The Acorn</em>. Around this table sat Brodey Harrison, Karl Winters and Jordan Cole. They were all on their third round of drinks and the conversation had been nothing but entertaining, recounting cherished memories from school and briefly filling each other in on where their lives had taken them since. Brodey was right, it felt just like old times. <em>Right down to the part where Jack wasn't here to enjoy it,</em> a guilty part of Troy whispered as he sipped his drink. He stopped beating himself up. It was Jack's decision not to come, which makes it anything but Troy's fault. It meant he could join them next week on the pub crawl instead, if he ever got a chance to ask him if he wanted to go.</p><p><em>Maybe we shouldn't tell him Joseph is coming?</em> He thought. <em>No, he'd find out. Just find him tomorrow, ask if he wants to join in and then tell him. When he says no, they you can move on.</em></p><p>It sounded so simple in his head.</p><p>"So, Jordan" he said suddenly, trying to distract himself from his problems. "How's business at the music venue?"</p><p>Jordan he recounted his life story earlier that evening. After school he started working in Nottingham at a fast food restaurant to earn money. But then his uncle got him a job in a rock bar where he worked behind the counter. He got to listen to his favourite bands every night and eventually rose up to full staff barman and occasional bouncer at <em>Rocking City</em>, the biggest music venue in the city. He even got to perform a few warm up acts for the bands. He was living his dream. Yet tonight he seemed distracted and sullen. "Alright, I guess" he muttered.</p><p>"What's got you in a mood?" Brodey asked the lanky bartender.</p><p>"Just sick of all of this" he grumbled, shrugging Brodey's hand away.</p><p>The others all looked at each other perplexed. Whatever was going on, he clearly wasn't interested in explaining. "It could be worse" Troy offered.</p><p>"It could be better" Jordan rebuffed.</p><p>They just shrugged. Karl cast one final glance at the door. "I guess we can officially say Jackson isn't coming tonight" he said to the group. He looked to Troy, "What are the chances he'll make the pub crawl next week?" he asked him.</p><p>"Troy would have to ask him first" Brodey explained.</p><p>"I'm working on it" Troy argued, grumbling under his breath. "It's just delicate."</p><p>"He's worried Jack might tear Joseph's head off" he told the others.</p><p>He meant to make it sound like a joke. After all Jack was considered the least dangerous person they knew. But Karl responded with a hint of doubt. "I doubt Jack would do anything, but Joseph might. We haven't exactly asked him if he'd be okay with bringing the extra company. And this pub crawl was his idea."</p><p>"You didn't tell me that" Troy said in surprise. If Joseph had arranged this night out that meant what he had in mind would be everything Jackson would be against. <em>Just what I need.</em></p><p>"It's been years since they've seen each other" Brodey objected optimistically. "I'm sure it'll be fine." Both Karl and Troy shook their heads. They were both there when Joseph and Jack went head-to-head for the last time at the prom. They did not leave on good terms.</p><p>"Maybe he'll be in a good mood" Jordan muttered from his drink. "Now that his old man is gone."</p><p>"What?" Troy blinked, looking across at Jordan. "What are you talking about his old man?"</p><p>"Didn't you hear?" Brodey answered. "Stoke's dad died two nights ago. The night we last saw him, coincidentally."</p><p><em>Joseph's dad died? Jesus!</em> "What happened?" he asked them.</p><p>"We don't know" Karl told him, but Jordan interrupted with "Don't we?"</p><p>"No, we don't!" Brodey growled to the sullen young man. The tone of his voice ended any debate and made Troy shiver. He got the feeling Brodey and Jordan knew something he didn't, as did Karl from the way he averted his gaze. He looked over at Brodey, trying to ask him what was going on, but the guy remained silent.</p><p>"So how did Joseph take the news?" he asked.</p><p>"How do you think?" Jordan said sarcastically. "He's doing cartwheels. He finally got what he always wanted."</p><p>"It's no secret Joseph hated his father" Karl reluctantly agreed. "I walked by the man's house the morning after, but I couldn't find much out about what happened. It sounded bad though. Nobody's sure how he died."</p><p>Troy suddenly felt sick and depressed. "That's terrible" he mumbled, taking a large sip from his drink.</p><p>"No it isn't" Jordan replied. "It's destiny. Joseph wanted him dead and now he is. He got his deepest desire. Just like you did" he looked at Brodey. "And you" he looked at Karl. "You experienced destiny. You asked for your deepest desire and you got it. And soon it'll be my turn."</p><p>Troy stared at the ranting young man, glancing between the wide eyed Brodey and Karl and their panicked yet confused faced. "What is he talking about?" he asked them. They both shrugged in bewilderment, staring back at the solemn Jordan. He fell silent, nursing his drink leave the room in a very awkward silence.</p><p>"Okay, listen to me Troy mate" Brodey suddenly said, diverting the topic from the strange declaration as he addressed him from across the table. "You can't keep putting this talk with Jack off forever. If you want him to join us, then buckle up and ask him. You know where he lives. Tomorrow, just go over there, say hi and then get it over with. Ask him."</p><p>Troy sighed. He was right. He couldn't keep putting it off. He just had to hope Jack was in a good mood when he visited tomorrow. <em>Assuming he's not busy.</em></p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>20</p><p>While both Jackson and Troy each departed for the night, another person stalked through the neighbourhood shrouded in darkness, walking through the streets like a predator. Crimson blood dripped from his hands, feet and skin from the cuts and gashes sustained from his escape from the hospital morgue. Glass still dug into his heels with every step, but the man didn't feel a thing.</p><p>All he felt was rage.</p><p>He followed the roads like an animal following its instincts, the route committed to memory. He didn't stop to eat. He didn't stop to sleep. He didn't stop to put on a single article of clothing. He didn't stop until he arrived at his destination. He stood outside the house he remembered, the windows dark and vacant, police tape surrounding the house and the street in front of it. His vacant eyes scanned the empty street, the crowds and police having finished their investigations hours ago, leaving nobody to witness this man arrive back home. He walked forward towards the front door, which was barred with tape but ultimately unlocked.</p><p>The interior of this house was mostly intact, except for the open drawers where the officers searched for clues to potential motives. Yellow cones were dotted around the living room where the body was found, dark patches in the carpet where different bodily fluids spilled onto the floor. The man looked down at the pools of his piss and vomit, scowling distastefully.</p><p>The memory of the night he died flashed before him, the image of his body rolling on the floor screaming in agony as red welts form all over his body. The welts swelled until they burst, spilling puss and blood as his skin turned pale and cracked open, and his eyes filled with blood bulging out of their sockets. After an hour of torture, he finally passed out as his heart ruptured in his chest, the man falling dead.</p><p>Except he didn't die. He was thrown into a void of pain that seemed to stretch for eternity, lost in an abyss until he managed to crawl back out of the void and return to his body waking up in the Morgue. He snapped his hand up and grabbed the first person he saw, believing it to be the face of the man who sent him to that hell, twisting his neck snapping it in two. He climbs off the table, his skin still pale and covered in welts, but no longer bloody or inflamed. His every joint ached though, each movement agony. But he didn't notice. Pain faded as his mind adjusted to it. His vacant eyes scanned the room, looking at each of the nurses surrounding him staring back in fear. He took his time, rage filling his senses as he murdered them one by one, tearing them apart, ripping open their chests and skulls. One poor young man tried to escape into the corridor, fumbling with the door long enough for the man to stalk towards him, ripping out his spine while the man screamed. After that he smashed his way out of the hospital, his naked body on display for all to see. The only person to see it though was a jogger a few yards outside the building, finding the man by accident. He didn't have a chance to tell anyone what he saw. The body has yet to be found.</p><p>Now back home, the man looked across the mantel piece to find the framed photographs lining the shelf. He saw his ex-wife, who walked out on him long ago, and his dead beat son. Rage filled his body once more, heat boiling behind his empty gaze as he stared at them. He'd stayed in this house for months, drinking away his anger. So much time wasted. He roared in anger, smashing the photographs against the wall, lashing out at everything he saw. He trashed everything in his house, screaming like a banshee, destroying all remnants of his old life.</p><p>Stoke was given a second chance at life. And now he was going to make them pay.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>21</p><p>As predicted, the White family were all set to take a trip to Nottingham for the day leaving the house empty. Jack made his case for why he couldn't go with them, claiming he had a therapy appointment he couldn't reschedule. His parents bought the story. His brother, however, was sceptical. "I thought you're last therapy session was two days ago?" he asked.</p><p>"No, two days ago I was visiting Troy" Jack lied. "My last session was a week ago." Also a lie. He'd yet to book that next appointment. He meant to days ago but he'd been too busy in Sheffield.</p><p>"Well, make sure you put the washing on the line before you leave" his mom told him as she picked up her bag.</p><p>"Yes mom."</p><p>"And if you have time, maybe hover up in these rooms" she suggested.</p><p>"Alright."</p><p>"And try not to leave the windows open when you lock up" his dad added, picking up his car keys.</p><p>"I did that once, a month ago" Jack groaned.</p><p>"As long as you know."</p><p>"I'll be fine" he told them, ushering them out the front door. He could sense his mother wavering, unwilling to leave her son alone after what happened weeks ago. "I'll have my phone on me if you need anything" he reminded them.</p><p>"Okay, see you in a few hours" she said, waving him goodbye as she pushed his brother and sister out the door. David gave him the suspicious eye as he left, but Jack just smiled and waved as he stood in the doorway watching them get into the car.</p><p>Once the engine had started and they were pulling away, Jack stepped back inside and slammed the door shut. "Five minutes, my backside!" he sighed in annoyance, slumping against the door releasing a sigh of relief. They were supposed to have left an hour ago, but punctuality was never a family trait. Mom wanted to finish the program she was watching, at which point dad had just made a fresh cup of tea he wanted to drink. Then his sister needed to change her clothes because she always lounged in her pyjamas around the house. Everyone needed the toilet at the same time. Jack wonders how they ever got anywhere on time.</p><p>Finally hearing the car disappear up the street, he peeked through the front room window before darting back through the living room into the kitchen where the back door sat on his left. Waiting outside was a figure an inch shorter than him with blonde hair, dressed in a comfortable pair of grey pants, a white t shirt and grey jacket, with brown boots on her feet. Freya didn't usually dress in her "mortal" clothes unless she needed to go undercover, but today it felt more appropriate than her leather armour, grey cloak and skirt. Her pendant hung from her slender neck and her retractable spear still hung at the base of her spine out of sight. Unlike Jack, hers couldn't phase in and out of sync with reality.</p><p>Freya had arrived at the house twenty minutes ago while everyone was still getting ready. Jack was fortunate enough to catch her peering through the back window before the others did, quickly ducking through the wall to ask her to stay around back out of sight until they left. She hid underneath the window and waited patiently for them to leave, hearing the car from the alley. Now she stood waiting at the back door for him to open it for her and prove the coast was clear. "Sorry we took so long" he said apologetically.</p><p>"It's okay" she told him. "I guess I was early."</p><p>"You know, this sneaking around stuff would be easier if you had a mobile phone of your own" he suggested, waving her inside.</p><p>"I asked Marcus for one, but he said we already spoke telepathically so I didn't have need of one. He didn't use them either."</p><p>Jack scoffed. <em>A detective without a mobile. That's bullshit.</em> An idea came to him suddenly. "I know, wait here" he said to her, turning to dart into the next room. Before he left the kitchen though, he remembered his manners. "Oh, sorry. Um, would you like a drink? I have orange juice, or milk? Or just tap water?"</p><p>Freya was caught off guard, staring back at him awkwardly. "Oh" she replied, nervously looking around. "Um, no. I'm okay. Thank you." It sounded lame and insulting, but Jack just shrugged and ducked into the next room asking her to give him a minute. He jogged into the hall and bound upstairs, leaving Freya alone to explore his house.</p><p>She stood rooted to the spot, unsure what to do. She'd never been invited into another boy's house before. Marcus never brought her to his old home. Even when she lived in the White City she'd never gone into another residence. Her kind had different customs when it came to social gatherings. If this was the White City she wouldn't be permitted to stand within a room without supervision from the occupant. And the owners were never obliged to offer their guests anything like drinks or refreshments. She wouldn't be permitted to move without their say so, unable to leave without their acknowledgement.</p><p><em>But this isn't the White City</em> she told herself, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves before taking a step off her anointed position. She felt like an intruder, but she had the courage to press forward into the living room. <em>Mortal customs are different</em> she told herself as she crept into the next room, her curiosity driving her gaze around the decorations and ornaments. The living room was big. Bigger than her bedroom back home. The light fitting hung from the middle of the ceiling with a glass coffee table positioned underneath it. Along one wall sat a three seated sofa facing a fireplace, which had been replaced with an electric heater. On the wall opposite the kitchen sat another sofa, a two seater, with a glass cabinet on its left opposite the door to the hallway. Next to Freya, placed in front of the window looking out into the backyard, was a TV next to another cabinet full of papers and ornaments. She carefully walked in a circle around the table, looking up at the photographs hanging from the walls. She saw Jack at various ages with his family, sometimes on his own. She saw his brother and sister as they got older, his parents in their younger years. They looked happy. They made her smile. She came to the mantel piece above the heater, candles and other objects placed atop it. She found a small glass cube with the image of a dog engraved within, next to it a glass swan. She picked up the swan to examine it. It looked so delicate but felt so solid. It looked amazing. She'd never seen anything like it.</p><p>Jack's footsteps suddenly came bounding down the stairs and Freya yelped in panic, fumbling with the glass ornament quickly putting it back where she found it. Back home it was the greatest insult to touch another's possessions without their permission. She saw her dad completely humiliate a visitor who did so one time and it terrified her. She turned back to Jack just as he stepped into the living room, her putting her arms obediently to her sides as her face flushed red with embarrassment.</p><p>Jack looked up to find her acting strangely and cocked his head. "Are you okay?" he asked her.</p><p>She nodded sheepishly, looking across to the swan which she realised was slightly askew. "Um…" she stammered, sweat forming on her brow. "I was just admiring your…um… That's a very beautiful sculpture" she said pointing at the swan. Jack looked over at it with a confused frown, shrugging. "Is it a family heirloom?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.</p><p>Jack looked at the swan blankly. "Actually, I think that came with the house" he told her. She stared back at him, suddenly appearing confused. He just shrugged, muttering "I dunno" before holding out his hand. She looked down and saw he was holding a small black mobile phone. But it didn't look like the one she'd seen him use. "It's my old mobile before I traded up for a new one" he explained. "It still works. And I've just added my number into the contacts. There's no password to unlock it, though it might need charging. But if you need help learning how to use it, I'm sure I could talk you through the basics."</p><p>Freya stared at the device before snapping back up to him. "This is for me?" she gasped, staring down at the mortal instrument in his hand.</p><p>He nodded, offering it to her, waiting for her to take it gingerly from his grasp. "Telepathy can only get you so far" he told her. "And this would be a safe back up. Plus, I've been curious to see what the reception in Limbo is like." He watched as Freya held the phone in her hands, tapping a few of the buttons to open the menus. She clearly caught on how it works, which pleased him.</p><p>She looked up at him, a well of emotions flooding her body. "Thank you" she said, cradling the gift in her hands. Nobody had offered her anything like this before. "I might need a little help" she admitted, getting a laugh out of both of them.</p><p>He smiled, walking back into the kitchen. "You sure you don't want that drink?" he asked her over his shoulder.</p><p>Freya took a relieved breath and decided "sure. Thanks." While he went into the kitchen, she took another look around the room. "You have a nice house" she complimented. "It's not quite what I was expecting."</p><p>He came back with a glass of orange juice, glancing around the place with a shrug. "It's okay, I guess. What were you expecting?"</p><p>She gave him a tiny shrug, taking the drink he offered her. "I don't know. It just looks…ordinary."</p><p>"Are you saying I'm not ordinary?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She looked at him sheepishly. He laughed. He didn't think he was ordinary either. "Fair enough. It works as a family home. But someday, I will find a place for myself."</p><p>"You could just live at the fortress" she suggested.</p><p>"I could" he nodded, "but no offence, it feels like a mausoleum. Or a dungeon. I'd rather have somewhere in a city, on a high floor, windows looking over an incredible view. My own studio. My own bathroom. Nobody to interrupt me, or bother me, where I don't need to explain myself every time I leave the house."</p><p>Freya listened intently and felt a smile form on her lips. That sounded more like what she was expecting. "It sounds perfect" she said.</p><p>He smiled, a dreamy like look in his eye. <em>One day. </em>He snapped back to the present quickly, whipping around Freya so fast she almost got dizzy. "Shall we get to it then?" he asked her, retrieving a laptop from a side table along with the hard drive they had retrieved from the healthcare centre. She followed him into the kitchen where he opened up the computer and logged in. When it had booted up he plugged the drive into the USB port, the file directory appearing on his screen. "So, with luck" he said as he and Freya took a seat at the table, "this thing will have a copy of the security feed. Either that or we just nicked somebody's copy of call of duty."</p><p>"Can you find out?" she asked optimistically.</p><p>"It should be as simple as clicking this icon" he replied, moving the mouse over to the drive icon on his computer and opening it. Only to be met with a ping as a dialogue box sprung into the screen asking for a password. "Unless we get this" he grumbled disappointed.</p><p>Freya looked at the box. "Can you bypass it?" she asked him.</p><p>"I might know my computers, but I'm not a hacker" he told her. He stared at the screen in defeat. Unless he could get lucky with the password there was no way he was getting in. Nobody he knew could hack into this drive. He was stuck.</p><p>He was about to give up when there was a loud knock on the front door. "Are you expecting someone?" Freya asked him.</p><p>Jack shook his head. He was confused, and a little bit worried, but rolled his eyes as he got to his feet. "Don't tell me my mom forgot something again" he muttered walking out of the kitchen, ducking back to tell Freya to stay where she was and duck out of sight if it's them. He figured it was a door to door salesmen, or another delivery nobody told him about. He'd just get rid of them and get back to work.</p><p>But then the door knocked again. This time it rattled so hard the sound echoed through the house. Jack paused as he reached the hallway as the door shook from the heavy pounding. Salesmen don't knock that hard. Neither do his parents. The door rattled and Jack tensed, glancing over his shoulder to spy Freya in the kitchen ducking behind the doorway out of sight. He took a steady breath as he approached the front door, the heavy pounding growing more urgent, more intense. He clenched his fist ready for whatever was out there trying to break the door down, Hellfire surrounding his hand ready to defend his home.</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>22</p><p>Troy rapped loudly on the door one last time, the frame shaking under his insistent impact. Finally the door opened and Jack peered out to look at him, scanning the doorframe. "What did the door do to you?" he asked jokingly.</p><p>"We need to talk" he interrupted, walking past him heading into the house.</p><p>Jack was pushed aside, left perplexed as his best friend marched into his home. "Hi Troy. Please, come in" Jack muttered sarcastically as he closed the door.</p><p>Fortunately, Jack had finally managed to focus his Phase-vision to see through the material plane, turning it into x-ray vision to see through the rattling door where he discovered his visitor was just Troy. He relaxed his stance and called back to Freya, telling her who it was so she could come out of hiding. That's when he greeted him.</p><p>Troy stormed through the hallway into the living room, looking up to be surprised by the presence of Freya in the kitchen. "Oh" he stammered, coming to a stop in the middle of the room. "Hi, I didn't realise you were…"</p><p>"Having company?" Jack finished, following the guy through.</p><p>"Should I go?" Freya asked awkwardly, still standing in the doorway to the kitchen.</p><p>"No, it's fine" Jack told her assuring. "Just give us a second. See if you can find a clue to that drive we found." She nodded politely to Troy, turning to the table letting the boys talk. Jack stood in front of an impatient Troy Anderson, crossing his arms as he asked him "Okay, what can I do for you?"</p><p>Troy hesitated for a moment. He had hoped Jack would be on his own so he could say what he needed to. But with Freya present he suddenly felt under pressure again. "You know what, it doesn't matter" he choked, motioning to leave. "You're both busy. I should go."</p><p>"Or" Jack said ordering him to stay put, "you could just come out with it and tell me what's going on. Spill it. You've been acting weird all week."</p><p>Troy found himself cringing, realising he'd been on the other side of the conversation so many times. <em>You can't keep putting it off.</em> "Fine" he sighed, taking a deep breath. <em>Get it over with.</em> "The guys were putting together a night out next week, going from pub to pub like the old days. Brodey asked me to come along and I was wondering if you wanted to join us. I know it's not usually your thing but I was hoping you'd be willing to come with us for the night."</p><p>Jack stared at him, silently waiting for something. But when he realised Troy was done he suddenly asked "Is that it?" He started chuckling as Troy just stared at him confused. "Christ, for a minute there I thought you were doing to tell me something bad."</p><p>"So…" Troy said cautiously, awaiting his friend's response.</p><p>Jack thought about it a moment, his mind juggling the pros and cons about a night out with their old friends. Troy was right, a pub crawl isn't usually Jack's idea of a good time. But he couldn't turn down a chance to break the mould a little, expand his life a bit. And it would be a good chance to hang out with the others again. "Sure" he replied. "I'll come. It'll be nice to say hi to the others. And I've been curious to see if this healing factor can withstand alcohol anyway. I wonder if a reaper can get drunk."</p><p><em>It's already been tried</em>, a voice in jack's head mumbled.</p><p>"Great" Troy smiled. But there was still a knot in his stomach that needed to be rectified. "But there's something else you should know" he told him.</p><p>"I got it!" a voice called from the kitchen.</p><p>Jack immediately spun around to peer into the next room, where Freya was waving him back sitting at the table in front of the laptop. He abruptly left the conversation to join her, looking at the computer where he was met with an unlocked hard-drive. "How did you mange that?" he asked her gobsmacked.</p><p>"Marcus wasn't fond of modern technology" she replied modestly. "But I understand it a lot more than I ever admitted. The White City likes to keep informed on humanity's advancements in case they ever reach a point to rival ours, so they had a class on understanding and manipulating your technology. They called it techno-magic."</p><p>"Seriously?" he looked at her, a mix of surprise and awe. "Wow. Remind me to call you next time I forget my password." Freya blushed from the praise, shuffling to the side as Jack took his seat in front of the laptop. "Now, what's say we find out what's on it?" he asked rhetorically</p><p>Troy followed his friend into the room and joined them over the laptop. He still needed to explain to him that Joseph was going to be a part of the group next week, but he figured he had a little time till he broke that particular bombshell. "Is this something to do with another case?" he asked curiously.</p><p>"Yes. Well, no. Well… We don't know" he explained. "Let's just say my spider sense is tingling on this one."</p><p>Troy caught Freya's confused look and chuckled. "You are such a geek" he muttered.</p><p>"I'll consider that a good thing" Jack smiled as he searched through the hard drive.</p><p>"So what is this?" Troy asked following Jack's curser through the file directory.</p><p>"We found it at the Healthcare centre in the security room" Freya told him.</p><p>Troy looked at the pair of them. "Oh, are you investigating that massacre they were talking about on the news?" <em>Please, god, don't let it be a ghost on the loose</em>, he thought. "I thought the cops would've taken these thing?"</p><p>"Whoever plugged this in made sure it was difficult to find" Jack explained. "But as far as I can tell, it's just a backup drive of the security footage doing back months. Which is exactly what we're looking for."</p><p>Troy leant over to examine the screen, the saved footage grouped into folders with the dates labelled. The drive also had a preview application mimicking the professional security platform recording everything. He worked part time at his brother's signage business and helped put their cameras up, so he recognised the application and its programs. "It looks like whoever set this up encoded a programme to flag specific timecodes and erase them from the main server, saving the footage in a special folder."</p><p>This caught the attention of both his old friend and new acquaintance. "Who would want to remove security footage?" Freya asked.</p><p>"Someone who has something to hide" Jack deduced.</p><p>"So why keep the footage on a backup?"</p><p>"Insurance" Troy suggested.</p><p>Everything about this suspicious hard drive told them they'd stumbled upon something illegal. "Okay" Jack clapped, finding the folder of flagged timecodes where the hidden footage sat, all dated for their convenience. "Place your bets. What non-legal activities do you think are being committed under our noses?"</p><p>"Are they all from the morgue?" Troy asked. Jack checked and nodded. "Must be organ harvesting" he predicted. "Cutting out dead peoples organs to sell on the black market. It's known to happen."</p><p>Freya seemed reluctant to speculate, but she quietly offered her suggestion. "Marcus once told me about a drug lord using dead bodies to smuggle stuff across the city. Nobody looked for drugs in a corpse he'd say."</p><p>"Damn" Troy blinked. That was a good prediction.</p><p>Finally he looked at Jack, who had politely let his friends go first. When he had their attention he simply said "poker night."</p><p>Troy almost choked on his laugh. "Seriously? That's your prediction?"</p><p>"Hey, more often or not, the simplest answer is often the right one" he explained. "Or so everyone keeps telling me after I overthink the simplest of problems." He addressed the computer, selecting one of the many videos at random, the mouse hovering over the icon. "And the winner is…" he said dramatically as he opened the video with a flourish. All three of them leant forward in anticipation as the screen revealed the grainy image of the morgue from the viewpoint of the security camera. "None of the above" he finished in disappointment as the sound of heavy breathing and a woman's moans came from the speakers, the sounds of sex filling the kitchen while the captive audience was met with the image of a large man standing behind a woman who was bent over the operating table.</p><p>"Wow" Troy muttered staring at the screen in front of them. "I was not expecting that."</p><p>Freya narrowed her gaze to the image, watching the video confused. "Why would someone record this?" she pondered.</p><p>"There are obvious answers, but I do sometimes wonder" Jack mumbled.</p><p>"That girl has to be at least half his age" Troy commented as the video continued, the woman's moans getting louder as the man started speaking in profanities. "And is she wearing a nurse's uniform?"</p><p>"And I think he's a doctor" Jack nodded. "Or at least is dressed like one."</p><p>"So…" Freya asked awkwardly. "Is this illegal?"</p><p>"Illegal, no. Unethical, maybe." He checked the programme recording these videos. There was a cloud server saving them to a private user. Either the doctor, or the nurse, was behind this or a guard had arranged them. They would never know. A part of him didn't really care, it wasn't his business."</p><p>Freya's head tilted as the man and woman changed positions, her eyes focusing on the grainy image. "So is this what you mortals would consider <em>impressive</em> among men." She glanced to Jack who was trying not to look at her, making the whole situation even more awkward.</p><p>"Not in my experience" Troy answered looking at the same image. That made both Jack and Freya look up at him. "What?" he asked them defensively.</p><p>Jack shook his head, closing the video and sighing in disappointment. "Kind of disappointing" he said.</p><p>"I imagine that's what she said afterward" Troy chuckled. "So are they all sex-tapes?"</p><p>"Unless you want me to open each on in turn, I'll just assume yes" Jack replied, closing the folder and focusing on the rest of the footage. He scrolled down to the latest date and found the file for two nights ago. Thank god this was still a backup drive. "Now let's try the night of the massacre and find out what happened. It's not flagged, which is a good sign."</p><p>He opened the video to be greeted with the same man and woman, fully clothed, standing over a naked man on an operating table. There were a few orderlies and other helpers standing around the room waiting patiently. "I swear, if they start having sex with the guy on the table, I'm throwing this laptop out the window" Jack declared.</p><p>Troy shrugged, standing up straight watching the video with them. He never understood Jack's aversion to sex. All through school, while every teenage boy was going through the motions of comparing the hottest girls with the sexiest ass, Jack kept himself a safe distance from the whole topic. In hindsight it worked a lot in his favour. Nobody could condemn him as a creep and he showed real respect for other people, even if it made him a big target to the school ground bullies. And yet they just all sat around watching a hidden camera porn movie and he didn't even flinch in revulsion. He grew up faster than the rest of them did.</p><p>"Karl told me he ran into you a few days ago" Troy suddenly said, just to give them something to talk about. Jack nodded, leaning back in his chair as the video continued. It looked like a regular autopsy as the doctor started talking into a recording device, labelling the man as an unidentified male. "You never said Mira was back in the neighbourhood" Troy said.</p><p>"I only just found out" Jack replied nonchalantly. "She's back to finalise some details before the wedding."</p><p>Troy nodded. He heard over social media that Mira had met someone and was engaged. It was a proud moment for her. "You two came up in conversation last night with the guys" he told him. "They mentioned a rumour about prom night."</p><p>Jack rolled his eyes. "Is that still a thing?" he whined. He hated how well rumours stick. The prom might've been a week before graduation, but he soon heard the speculation of how he and Mira had hooked up the night they left the party. That was after Joseph's big scene, a day he'd rather forget about. He looked up at Troy. "So what did you say?" he asked.</p><p>Troy shrugged. "I didn't confirm it if that's what you're worried about" he replied. Jack caught Freya's reaction out the corner of his eye and immediately cringed. "I still can't believe you two actually went there" Troy added obliviously.</p><p>"And I can't believe I actually told you about it" Jack replied, giving him his trademark look asking him to <em>stop talking</em>.</p><p>"Look" Freya interrupted, pointing to the screen, mercifully ending the conversation. They both leant forward as the autopsy continued, the man on the table becoming clearer as the doctor walked around him. "I checked the records of the victims they released to the media" Freya explained, "but I don't recognise that man."</p><p>"Why would you" Jack shrugged. "He's already dead. He's not a victim."</p><p>"That's Stoke!" Troy gasped looking at the screen. "I saw him when I was drinking with Brodey a few nights ago. They told me last night he died. What happened to his face?"</p><p>Jack peered closer and saw the boils and swelling around his body. It did not look pretty, even the nurses were averting their eyes. "Stoke?" he gasped in recognition. "As in Joseph's dad Stoke?" Troy nodded. "Mira and I walked past that house when they wheeled him out. That's where we saw Karl. Shit, small world."</p><p>"Do we know what happened to him?" Troy asked. "Maybe that's what you were sensing."</p><p>"It could be" Freya mused, looking to her partner. "It doesn't look like he died naturally."</p><p>"But what could've caused…"</p><p>Their discussion was suddenly cut short as there was a loud growl through the speakers, the grainy image shaking at Stoke, the man on the table, suddenly reach up and caught a shocked doctor around the throat. The three of them all flinched back in surprise as staring at the screen as they witnessed the formerly dean man get off the table and tear the doctors head from his shoulders.</p><p>"Oh creator!" Freya gasped as she covered her mouth, watching in horror as the man climbed onto the floor and made his way around the room to each of the unfortunate mortals within. The sounds of screaming and howling and bones snapping and flesh tearing flooded the speakers and she hid her face in Jack's shoulder while the boys both stared transfixed to the gory, blood curdling sight unfolding. Troy was never squeamish, but something about seeing a grown man rip open another man's rib cage with his bare hands sent a pool of vomit up his throat. Jack was the only one to steel his nerve and keep watching, his focus not on the horrific mutilation of the men and women within the morgue, but the unnatural gaze of the man committing it.</p><p>Even through a recording he could feel it. This was wrong. This man did not belong. And as Stoke looked up to glare into the camera with his empty gaze and furious expression, Jack's palm grew warm as the brand glowed beneath his skin, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.</p><p>This was what he was looking for.</p>
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<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>23</p><p>The police car pulled up outside the address they were given, a small bungalow in a suburban street of a quiet neighbourhood. According to the call the station received this morning, there had been a loud disturbance last night that continued into early morning. All at this address. While that wouldn't be overly unusual, the address had been flagged as the home of an unidentified male who had died the day before. Police tape still littered the surrounding area marking it as an active crime scene, though everyone on duty had already left. The case was suspicious so the detectives investigating ordered the patrol to check it out in case the killers had returned.</p><p>The two uniformed officers stepped out of the car dressed in their High Visibility vests, their tasers in their holsters for easy retrieval. Unlike their American counterparts, police forces in the UK had no need to carry firearms. The Taser was a safe nonlethal defence but only in extreme circumstances. Anything else would be considered unnecessary force. One of the officers pulled his hat on while the other left it in the car, running his hand over his bald head. "It's not going to grow back" his partner teased.</p><p>The bald man was known as Officer Cox, who had been on the force for three years now. He had just taken his sergeants exam with the hopes of progressing up the promotion ladder. He had also recently shaved his own head for charity, a dare from the guys at the station. He felt naked without his mop of dark hair. His partner was Officer Trevor, who had been with him for the last six months. He was younger and had only graduated from the academy a year ago. Together they had stopped noise complaints, chased suspected drug dealers and helped secure around twelve crime scenes. The most bizarre site they patrolled was the scrap yard a few days ago as several forensics and men in suits investigated the disturbance. There were large gaps in the fence and broken metal everywhere, but the strangest thing was the black goo that covered the ground with no explanation. There were also signs of a massive fire. To their knowledge the case hadn't been solved.</p><p>They both approached the front door cautiously, scanning the windows and side walls looking for movement. Cox took the lead, signalling Trevor to stay on the street watching the house. They learnt that sometimes when a copper knocks on the door the occupants either hide behind curtains or make a break for the back, so one always stayed back ready to give chase. He rapped the door loudly, calling into the house "POLICE. PLEASE STEP OUT OF THE PREMISIS." He waited a full minute, listening carefully for signs of life. He didn't hear anything. When he looked over his shoulder his partner shook his head. He reached out and tested the handle. The door was unlocked. He gestured for Trevor to circle around the back while he pulled up his radio. "Control, this is unit 14. No response from the address you gave us. Requesting permission to enter the building." He paused for a moment, listening to the static while peering through the crack in the door. The interior was dark and damp, a smell drifting out the entrance to greet the officer. Something about this place gave Cox chills.</p><p>"Permission granted" a voice crackled over the radio. "Proceed with caution."</p><p>"Copy" Cox replied, slowly pushing the door open to step inside. The curtains were all drawn, casting the whole house in darkness, forcing him to pull out his torch and shine a light inside. "Police! We're coming in!" he called out again, scanning the interior. He couldn't see much but was able to make out the mess littering the floor. The place appeared ransacked. Maybe the perpetrator had come back and searched the place. Maybe he was long gone. Maybe he was still here. He went room to room, searching each space in order, even checking the closet and storeroom for hidden assailants. He couldn't hear any disturbance. He couldn't even hear his partner around the back. He hoped he hadn't got distracted like he did on their last house call, which conveniently had a young lady sunbathing in the next yard. It took them half an hour to catch the suspect who made a run for it because one of them wasn't paying attention.</p><p>Cox stepped into the living room to search it, stepping on glass as he entered. He panned his light down and found a smashed photograph, kneeling down to examine it. The picture was of a family, a man, woman and their son. But the wife and son had their eyes scratched out, as if someone took their finger nails to the image and angrily erased them. It looked like something out of a horror movie.</p><p>So was the broken growl coming out of the shadows?</p><p>The hair stood on the officer's neck as he looked back up again, following the chilling sound along the floor to the old armchair sitting in the corner of the room above a damp patch in the carpet, yellow cones scattered around the chair. Sunlight shone through the curtain-less window at the front of the house while the torch light rose up to illuminate the dark corner, revealing the pale, thin man sitting in the arm chair dressed in only a pair of jeans, his bloody feet planted on the ground. Boils covered his skin surrounded by red botches, blood and pus leaking from his flesh. Cox felt his stomach churn, threatening to bring back his breakfast.</p><p>"Where are they?" the man in the chair growled, his voice crackling like a broken speaker. His white nails dig into the armchair, cutting into the material leaving gnashes in the furniture. The cone of light rose higher, revealing the contorted face permanently expressing rage as his eyes glared back at the officer. His narrow, vacant eyes stared into the man's soul. It was like staring into the abyss.</p><p>Cox leapt to his feet, keeping his gaze on the pale man in the chair. "Police" he said, his voice rising in pitch. He tried to sound confident but fear was creeping into his tone making it squeak. There was something wrong about this man, he could tell. Something about this place. It scared him. "Just… stay where you are" he ordered, his words stammering.</p><p>The man didn't move, his eyes never leaving the officer's. "Where are they?" he repeated.</p><p>Cox didn't know what he was talking about, but his eyes glanced down to the photograph on the floor. The man was in the picture was the same man in the chair, but older. It must be his family he was looking for. But the way their eyes were scratched out… Cox wondered if finding them was a good idea. He slowly reached for his radio, intending to call for back-up. "Just stay calm" he told the man in the chair.</p><p>But the man wasn't willing to wait. The second the officer's fingers touched the button on the radio, he had sprung up to his feet and crossed the distance between them within a second. Cox saw him moving, but reacted too slowly as the man's hand latched around his neck, slamming him into the back wall lifting him off his feet. For such a thin man he was unbelievably strong. Cox weighed twice his body weight, yet was being treated like he was a sack of sugar. "You will bring them to me!" the man growled, holding tightly to the throat of the officer struggling in his grasp. "YOU WILL BRING ME MY FAMILY!"</p><p>"DON'T MOVE!" Trevor shouted from the hallway, his Taser in his hands pointed directly at the assailant. He had found an open window around the back and snuck in through the bedroom, following his partner's voice back to the living room. When he saw the man run at his partner he immediately pulled his weapon, rushing out to find Cox pinned to the wall. "PUT HIM DOWN NOW AND PUT YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD!" he ordered.</p><p>The man they didn't realise was named Stoke stood silently in place, squeezing the man's neck as he ignored the man threatening him. He didn't feel fear, only rage as he growled in his broken static tone as if his vocal cords were irreparably damaged. Only one thought compelled him to return here, to find his wife and son. But not to reunite with them, but to tear them to pieces for abandoning him. And he wasn't going to let anyone stand in his way.</p><p>Trevor realised the man wasn't about to comply and so did the only thing that he thought he could. He pulled the trigger on this Taser, firing the twin prongs connected to copper wires at the topless man. His aim was on point and Stoke was hit with enough voltage to incapacitate a man three times his size. However when Stroke was hit with the electricity, he growled in pain but remained standing. His reaction had the impulsive effect of crushing the throat in his hand, killing the officer in his grasp. Trevor realised his mistake and dropped his weapon, backing away as Stoke dropped the lifeless man to the floor and turned his attention to him.</p><p>The way his vacant gaze bore into his soul made Trevor's heart race. He raced back out of the living room, jumping behind the first door he found. Unfortunately, it led into a closet rather than the front door. Nevertheless, he slammed the door shut and screamed into his radio. "Control! I need backup! Officer down! Hostile engaged!"</p><p>Stroke stalked towards the door where the screaming officer hid behind, calmly walking over the dead man at his feet. He felt nothing but rage and pain from his death, which consumed his thoughts and senses ever since he woke up in the morgue. But somewhere deep down he still remembered his wife and son, both of which had left him in this dump of a house. He was going to find them and make them pay for leaving. He was going to make his son pay for what he did to him.</p><p>Overtaken with anger, he stood before the closet and roared, terrifying the man inside. Trevor tried to call through his radio again, the voice cackling back telling him back up was on the way. But not soon enough for him as Stoke punched his fist through the wood panels of the door. Trevor screamed as the clawed hand reached through the door to grab his head, his nails digging into his face cutting through the skin.</p><p>There was a sharp snap as the hand yanked the man against the wood, trying to pull him through the door back into the hallway. His skulled cracked against the hard surface and his neck snapped. Officer Trevor was dead by the time Stoke yanked him out of the closet through splintered wood, ripping his clothes and skin on the panels as he ripped him out of the closet.</p>
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<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>24</p><p>The moment the video ended, Jack slammed the laptop shut and sat back in his chair. Either side of him his two friends looked very pale and queasy. Freya had her eyes closed and her face buried in his shoulder, but she was forced to listen to the brutal screams and sounds coming from the video which was arguably worse. Troy was standing unsteadily on Jack's left, holding onto the table for support. "Jack" he said, his tone a question as he suddenly looked like he was going to be sick.</p><p>"Top of the stairs" he immediately told him, watching his best friend flee to the hallway holding his stomach.</p><p>It was quite ironic in Jack's opinion. Troy was the one who introduced him to horror movies, especially the gory scenes that always made Jack run out of the room so he didn't have to see it. Now the tables had turned. But he couldn't hold it against either of them. Seeing something like this in real life made it even more horrific. Even Jack was affected by this though he didn't show it. He'd been fighting demons and cutting them up for weeks since he died, and yet seeing humanity tear itself apart was somehow even worse.</p><p>Fifteen minutes later the three of them were sitting in the living room pondering over the revelations they'd witnessed. Jack offered Freya a hot cup of hot chocolate while tossing Troy a can of beer he'd raided from his dad's supply crate around back. "How is this possible?" Troy asked. "People don't just come back from the dead."</p><p>Jack resisted the urge to offer a response.</p><p>"He's right though" Freya agreed. "How would this Stoke person return to his mortal body? The Well of Souls would've alerted us. Azrael would've seen it."</p><p>"Maybe he did" he wondered. There must've been some sort of sign they missed. So he decided to ask the Angel of Death himself. Unfortunately Azrael doesn't have a mobile phone or a landline so all he could do was try and get his attention through the telepathic link to the fortress. As long as the man was in the observation deck he would hear him, but only if he was there. "Come on" he grumbled impatiently, tapping his temple with his finger.</p><p>Troy looked at him oddly. "What are you doing?" he asked.</p><p>"He's trying to call Azrael" Freya explained, holding her pendant in an attempt to communicate with the fortress.</p><p>"How? With your mind?" Troy doubted until they both shushed him.</p><p>"This had better be good kid" the gravelly voice cut through the link, answering the call with his usual enthusiasm.</p><p>"Hey" Jack said in greeting. "I need to ask you something. The fortress archives all the souls who die and pass into Limbo correct?"</p><p>"Sure, as long as they are tagged by one of my wraiths" he replied. "We get an alert when a soul passes on and a wraith is dispatched immediately by the Well of Souls. Once that happens, the information is archived here."</p><p>"Could you check to see if a man named Stoke passed through a few days ago?" he asked him.</p><p>There was a frustrating pause. "I'm not your errand boy kid" he growled.</p><p>"Can you just…" Jack wasn't ready for this argument right now. "Can you just check please? I think the guy might've come back to life and murdered a lot of people. So I need to know why, if it's true, we didn't hear about it."</p><p>Azrael thought about it a moment. "We haven't received an alert about this" he confirmed suspiciously. "I'll check with my wraiths, but it doesn't look like he passed through here. Give me a moment."</p><p>The link was broken as Azrael left to consult his warriors, leaving Jack to discuss it with Freya. "Is it possible for a soul not to get tagged by the wraiths?" he asked her.</p><p>"Maybe" she shrugged. "But unlikely. Azrael's system is flawless. I guess if he never passed through to limbo he could come back, but that would mean the man never really died."</p><p>"He looked dead in that video" Troy said.</p><p>"He was dead" Jack nodded. "Mira and I passed by his house when he was wheeled out in a body bag. I would've felt it if he was still alive. There was something odd about it though. I just don't know what."</p><p>"We have to find him" Freya said rising to her feet. "If he kills more people…"</p><p>"I know" he shushed her, hearing the worry and panic in her voice. "We'll find him." They just didn't know how.</p><p>Troy tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I guess we could ask Joseph if he could think of anywhere his dad might go to" he suggested.</p><p>Jack knew it was a good idea, but every molecule in his body immediately tensed. "You do that" he told him through gritted teeth. "I doubt I'd be able to look at him just yet."</p><p>The answer made Troy gulp, realising he definitely wasn't over everything Joseph had done to him back in school. This meant he wouldn't be accepting about joining him on their night out, even though he had already said yes. But this wasn't the time to worry about a pub crawl. He pulled out his phone and went searching for Joseph's number. He'd deleted it from his contacts years ago so he had to use social media to find it.</p><p>"Is there any way to track him from the hospital?" he asked aloud.</p><p>Freya shook her head. "Not if he isn't an entity from another realm. Unless he's a demon, we can't detect him."</p><p>"Then we'll have to do it the old fashioned way" he mused. "We should start at his house. Maybe there are some clues or hint to tell us what happened to him and where he might hide."</p><p>"I found him!" Troy gasped.</p><p>"Who, Joe?" Jack asked. "That shouldn't have been hard, his ego being as big as it is."</p><p>Troy was too shocked to even register the joke, staring at his phone as he opened a video link. "Not Joseph. I found his dad! Look!"</p><p>He held the mobile up to them so they could both watch the video on his screen. He'd stumbled across it while he was searching Facebook for Joseph Stoke's profile. The video was a livestream from someone in the area standing in a street recording a house surrounded by police cars. The title of the video said <em>POLICE TRY TO EVICT MADMAN </em>with twelve thousand people watching it already, their comments scrolling along the side. Jack never understood peoples obsession with broadcasting everything across the internet, but for once that worked in their favour as they realised the house being recorded was Stoke's place.</p><p>The image showed multiple police officers standing around or behind police cars as one of them started yelling into the building. "COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP! YOU'RE SURROUNDED!" Freya and Jack watched as the house remained silent until they heard screams coming from inside, where suddenly the front window shattered outwards as another officer was thrown outside. The figure rolled along the front yard to be picked up by one of her fellow officers, seeing her face bruised and bloody as the cameraman ran along the crowd to get a better look.</p><p>Before the police could confiscate the phone the front door was kicked open as a tall pale man stood in the entrance, a struggling officer in one hand held by his shoulder. The three of them gasped as they realised it was Stoke, standing in his house staring vacantly at the officers. The two he'd caught must've tried to sneak in through the back. "UNTIL YOU BRING ME MY FAMILY" he shouted menacingly at the crowd, "STAY OUT OF MY HOUSE!" he pulled up the officer in his grasp, holding up facing the crowd where he suddenly snapped the man's neck with ease, tossing him towards the cars where he landed lifelessly amongst the scared policemen. The crowd began to scream in alarm as they dispersed, the officers yelling to each other in panic.</p><p>"Oh, this isn't good" Jack commented.</p>
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<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>25</p><p>Jackson and his allies weren't the only ones watching the livestream.</p><p>In a bedroom, somewhere private in the neighbourhood, a figure sat at a desk with the lights off, the curtains drawn casting the room into darkness. The only source of light came from the computer screen, the live footage of the police assaulting Stoke's house playing before him with the audio blaring through the speakers. The figure watched as the pale man glared at the crowds with his vacant gaze, snarling wildly throwing the limp body of the cop he was holding back at the crowd.</p><p>He regarded the footage with mild amusement, a hint of a scowl breaking onto his face as he turned his attention back to the book before him. He flipped through the faded pages that looked like it would crumble to dust in his hands, the black ink scrawled in a language he couldn't read. Yet he traced the lines one by one, listening to the words rather than reading them. He wanted to know what went wrong. This wasn't what he asked for.</p><p>He asked for Stoke dead.</p><p>He was the one who followed the old drunk home, waiting in the shadows as the man entered his house and slumped into his favourite chair, carrying a bottle of alcohol to help him pass out. The figure stood outside waiting a few minutes, the leather bound book in his hands whispering to him. He had waited a long time for this moment. He would not wait a moment longer. Walking forward he found the door unlocked, stepping inside to hear Stoke calling to him asking who was there. He didn't give him an answer as he stood in front of the angry old man, looking down at him distastefully. He had so much he wanted to say, but he knew better than to waste his breath. He got to work.</p><p>He opened the book in his hands, the petrified face on the cover screaming quietly as he cracked the spine, the pages spilling open revealing the paragraph he was after with ease. The ink shimmered as the figure read the passage, the words clear and true as he recited them slowly and purposely. He didn't want to miss a syllable. He wanted this to be done right. And more importantly, he wanted to take his time.</p><p>Stoke started convulsing the moment the stranger started speaking, the words cutting through his body and soul causing unimaginable agony. Boils formed on his skin as his veins became inflamed, his blood turning scolding hot burning his insides, his organs rotting in seconds. Stroke screamed in pain, cursing the figure as he stood over him, drawing out the incantation as long as he could. Once the spell was over, Stoke's heart will stop. So he had until the final word to make his last moments on this earth a living hell. He watched the man roll and writhe and claw on the ground, blood and piss and pus soaking through his clothing onto the dirty carpet beneath him, his bloodshot eyes swelling in their sockets. A wide grin formed on his face, enjoying the sight of the man in agony. When he reached the end of the passage the man fell silent and died, satisfying the figure as he closed the book and walked out of the house, locking the door and leaving the dead man to rot in peace.</p><p>He left that house believing Stoke had died. He was promised his death. The spell explicitly told him what would happen to him before he died a horrific end. He scoured the book for answers, trying to figure out why it backfired. How was Stoke back in his house alive and insane? Had the book lied to him?</p><p>The phone buzzed on his left, the name of the caller flashing on the screen. He grumbled as he answered it. "What!" he said impatiently, speaking to the frantic voice on the line? "I know. I'm watching it. I don't know what's wrong with him, he was supposed to be dead. Yes I'm sure. I did exactly what the book told me to! Shut up and get a hold of yourself! I'm sure the police will correct this mistake. There's no way it can be tied to us. They wouldn't believe anything that lunatic says after this." His expression suddenly darkened. "I'd be careful who you talk to. You never know what page I'll be reading out of next. I'd hate to lose such a loyal mate."</p><p>He hung up the phone, leaving the threat hanging as he watched the livestream in his computer. He wasn't sure if this problem would just go away. The video turned to show the black van carrying the armed response team, these officers licensed to carry firearms. Hopefully a good old fashioned bullet will do what black magic apparently couldn't.</p><p>He suddenly found himself peckish, climbing out of his chair leaving the book on the desk and the livestream playing while he walked out of the bed room into the lit hallway to find something to eat. Had he stayed, he would've spotted the image of three individuals coming into view unaware that they were currently live on the internet as they sprinted towards the crowds surrounding the police barricade.</p>
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<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>26</p><p>"I don't understand what idiot livestreams a murder spree" Jack commented.</p><p>"I imagine the same kind of idiot who runs towards it" Troy shot back as he chased after him.</p><p>Jack couldn't argue with that statement. He was leading the way as the three of them ran through the streets towards the police barricade, where dozens of people were gathered to see what was going on. Freya was right by his side as they reached the wall of bodies, peering over their heads to see a young officer urging them to stay back. A pair of them ushered the crowd aside to make room for the swat van rolling down the street. Jack watched the armed response unit step out of the van and take their positions around the building, pointing their weapons at the open doorway, the bodies of their fallen friends scattered across the street.</p><p>"This is bad" Troy muttered finally catching up to them. He looked across the crowd and found the guy recording the livestream, a young man in a tracksuit holding his mobile phone up watching through the screen. More people around him had their camera on to record the event. <em>Experience the end of the world through a camera phone.</em></p><p>"Now what do we do?" Freya asked scanning the carnage, feeling uncomfortable amongst so many mortals. Jack saw her fiddling with her pendant nervously, knowing she couldn't use it or her magic while there were so many eyes on her. He knew the feeling. He was trying to keep a low profile to. He couldn't just run up on Stoke and hit him with a fireball without revealing to the world he's the new grim reaper.</p><p>"We'll figure something out" he said optimistically. In truth he was waiting to hear back from Azrael while seeing what happens next. <em>Maybe the swat team will be able to grab Stoke for us.</em></p><p>But he knew they wouldn't be that lucky. The moment the armed police took a step forward, Stoke was there in the doorway to greet them. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" he screamed, standing on the porch glaring at the officers dressed in body armour.</p><p>This gave the three of them their first look at Stoke in the flesh. And the sight of him chilled all of them to the core. The hair on the back of their necks stood up as his vacant gaze passed over them, scanning the police surrounding his home. The mortals all stared at him, unsure whether to be awed or afraid. But Jack could sense more than the eye could see, his brand glowing in his palm. Stoke was no longer human. He wasn't even sure he was even alive anymore. Every bone in Jack's body was telling him that Stoke was just wrong, that he didn't belong, that he shouldn't be alive. He knew they had made a mistake in coming here.</p><p>"GET DOWN ON THE GROUND AND PUT YOUR HEADS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!" the leader of the swat team shouted, aiming his rifle at the man. "OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO SHOOT YOU!"</p><p>Stoke didn't pay the man any heed, roaring at the officers as they all stood up shouting at the bare chested pale man, their guns trained on him threatening the murderer. The crowd all bristled, waiting for the shots to be fired. The officers stepped forward barking commands, spreading out in a circle surrounding the man as he stood at the foot of his porch growling. He seemed more like an animal than a man now. Then without warning he screamed and lashed out at the nearest officer, prompting the whole team to suddenly fire their weapons. The crowd all ducked and screamed as gunshots rang across the street. Seconds later Stoke's body slumped to the ground with bullet holes in his skin, his vacant eyes staring into space.</p><p>Everyone watched as the swat team approached the fallen body cautiously, radioing the situation back to HQ confirming the hostile is down. The crowds all fell silent as they listened intently to the officer reporting the use of lethal force. "There we go" Troy declared with a sigh of relief. "Crisis averted. Now we can go home."</p><p>He turned and walked back the way they came, glad they didn't have to deal with situation after all. Freya looked relived too, but she could tell something was uneasy about this. She looked up at Jack, whose gaze had never left the scene. "He's not dead" he whispered, his eyes widening as the police officers approached the body. He could sense it clear as day. "NO! STAY AWAY FROM HIM!" he shouted to the men and women surrounding the body, stepping towards the barrier only to be blocked by a uniformed young man.</p><p>"Keep those civilians away from the crime scene" the leader ordered, standing over the dead man lowering his weapon. He'd just confirmed the hostile was dead. He should've checked harder.</p><p>The moment his back was turned Stoke's hand shot out and grabbed at his ankle, surprising and startling the officer before he was suddenly dragged down onto the floor. He fell onto his back staring up as Stoke rose over him, growling in a cackling voice glaring back down at the man. All the other officers spun around to see the man, staring at the bullet holes in his chest where they had shot him, frozen in shock and disbelief. None of them could understand how he was still alive. That hesitation gave Stoke time to wrap his hands around the officer's skull, his nails digging into his skull as he suddenly smashed him against the concrete until the man's skull cracked open inside his helmet.</p><p>The first officer to recover was a thirty year old female, a close friend of the now haemorrhaging leader, her face contorting to horror as she released a grief-stricken wail, unloading her weapon at point blank range. Stoke knelt over the dead officer defiantly as he took every bullet into his body, the shots ripping through his flesh and landing in the brick wall behind him. When her gun clicked empty, the group was left in silence as they all stared at the pale man as he glared back at them. His vacant eyes fixed themselves onto the woman, a snarl curling on his mouth, and then his body sprung up to his feet leaping towards her. She screamed in terror as his hands wrapped around her throat, choking her pleas as she was carried away by his momentum into the side of the nearest police car. Stoke slammed her against the metal, denting the door with the force of his assault, his fingers squeezing her neck strangling her. The impact dazed the female officer, her body slumping unsteadily on her feet, gasping for air as he released her. But then everyone looked in horror as his hands were redirected to her chest, clawing into the armour as if intending to rip it open and expose her bust. Maybe that would've been preferable compared to the reality, his fingers digging into her skin and cutting into her body as she screamed in pain and agony until he ripped her ribcage open, tearing through her clothes in a geyser of crimson exposing her internal organs for him to rip out in a mad frenzy.</p><p>Jack, Freya and Troy all witnessed this nightmare frozen to the spot as the crowds suddenly started fleeing for their lives. Even the police officer blocking their path decided his life was worth more than this, retreating up the street frantically. "What the hell is happening?" Troy asked, dodging fleeing civilians as he tried to stay with his best friend. Jack was pushing through the crowd trying to get closer with Freya on his heels, weaving through the people before ducking behind a parked car. A few seconds later Troy joined them, panting frantically. "So what's the plan now hero?" he asked Jack.</p><p>"I'm working on it" he replied, peering over the bonnet to survey the gruesome scene playing before them. Stoke was back on his feet leaping from one car to the next, swatting away officers before killing them one by one. They screamed into their radios for back up, their cries cut short when he snapped their necks or ripped their throats out. Their bodies fell lifelessly onto the floor, some bleeding from huge tears in their flesh, others twisted unnaturally. One officer tried to hide behind a Vauxhall but Stoke hooked his palms underneath the chassis and flipped it on top of her, pinning her to the ground only to see the heel of his bare foot stomp down onto her face.</p><p>"There's too many people watching" Freya said, hiding behind the car glancing at all the windows in the street where panicking witnesses watched from behind curtains. "We can't use our magic out here."</p><p>"I get angels have laws against it" Troy said cowering next to Jack. "But what's stopping the reaper from just charging in?"</p><p>"Technically nothing" he replied. "Except the fact that everyone will find out I'm the Reaper!" he made it sound definitive, but he was starting to realise he won't have a choice. They all ducked back as the sounds of screams and growls filled their ears, averting their eyes from the carnage for a moment to come up with a plan. That didn't stop the reflection of Stoke in the windows catching their eye as he picked up a scrambling officer, raising him over his head snarling loudly as the flailing officer was suddenly torn in two. Freya yelped as his top half collided with their hiding place, the body landing like a ragdoll next to her. She covered her mouth trying not to throw up. Troy went ghostly white.</p><p>Jack crawled around them to get a better view of the situation, looking for a vantage point to try and engage the homicidal maniac. That was when Azrael finally returned over the telepathic link. "Finally! Where the hell have you been?"</p><p>"Chasing your ghost" the angel replied. "I spoke to my wraiths. One of them confirmed they had been summoned to a passing a few days ago in your area, but the soul never crossed over. I did some investigating and I believe it's this man you asked after. He never crossed into Limbo."</p><p>"Yes, I know that" Jack hissed impatiently. "He's over here right now killing every police officer in town. What I need to know is how that is possible?"</p><p>"I asked myself the same thing" he growled in warning. He hated it when he was interrupted. "That's why I did some more investigating. The man should've died but didn't cross over. Sometimes this can happen, but only in rare circumstances and almost always with outside help."</p><p>"You mean something kept him in this plane?" Freya asked, tuned in telepathically to their conversation. "What could do that?"</p><p>"I don't think so" he explained. "According to my findings, his manner of death is indeed suspicious and unnatural. Something powerful ended his life. I found magical traces at the correlating site in limbo."</p><p>"Yeah, I sensed it here too" Jack nodded, thinking back to the cold shiver he felt when he crossed this street with Mira. "Could that have killed him but then brought him back?"</p><p>"Killed him, definitely. But I think this mortal brought himself back."</p><p>"What?" they both asked confused.</p><p>Azrael paused to compose his answer carefully. "I've come across cases like this before. Rare, but possible. The last time was in Tokyo many decades ago, a mortal woman was killed in a jealous rage by her husband before returning to haunt the place she died. I think you're mortal has become an Onryo."</p><p>"An Onri-what?" Jack asked, urging Azrael to get to the point while he watched another officer get slammed onto the roof of a police car as Stoke swung him over his head by his ankles.</p><p>"Onryo" he repeated. "When a mortal soul is killed in a fit of pure primal rage, they become what some cultures call and Onryo. A vengeful spirit. They are drawn to their place of death and seek to exact revenge on whoever is responsible for taking their life. Any who trespass upon this place is considered an enemy and will be killed violently, unable to feel any emotion but rage towards the person they seek. They won't stop until they exact their revenge."</p><p>Jack and Freya listened intently, both looking at each other with an oblivious and worried Troy between them. "So I do we stop this one?" Jack asked nervously. "Is it a curse or something?"</p><p>"A curse in a sense. But Jack, you'll be best served figuring out who is responsible for creating this Onryo. Only a handful of reapers have ever dealt with an Onryo and they all came to the same conclusion; that it might be impossible to kill this spirit. An Onryo is born because the mortal soul simply refuses to pass over. They refuse to die."</p><p>"I thought being the Grim Reaper negates such bullshit" Jack quipped.</p><p>"I'm serious kid! These spirits are no joke. They will remain at the location they died forever and kill everyone who enters, unless they are delivered the target of their wrath."</p><p>"But we don't have time to find that person" Freya explained. "People are already dying, and more will come."</p><p>"She's right Azrael" Jack agreed. "I can't leave here knowing there's a homicidal maniac living in a haunted house waiting to kill the next unlucky soul to knock on his door."</p><p>"Then you know what you have to do" Azrael replied. "You have to put your personal feelings aside. Forgot about your fears or dislike for your new role and fulfil your duty. Lives are at stake now kid. There can be no compromise."</p><p>Jack sighed as the link with the fortress was disconnected, slumping down behind the car feeling his friends gaze on him. Freya's was full of pity and compassion. Troy was staring at him expectantly. "So what's the plan?" he asked.</p><p>"I have to kill him" he gulped.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>27</p><p>"Are you crazy?" Troy asked him manically.</p><p>"I don't have a choice" Jack told him. "If I don't stop him here and now, how many more innocent people will die?"</p><p>He peeked over the car's bonnet to see the street now littered with dozens of bodies, many of which have been ripped apart. Blood splattered everywhere with body parts scattered in all directions. Stoke stood in the middle of the street, his breath rattling as he scanned the surrounding houses. The people hiding within ducked out of sight to avoid his wrath. The only police officer left alive cowered behind a police car, shaking fearfully as he watched the pale monster turn around to face him. He backed away desperately, the only weapon in his hand the Taser from his hip which he fired wildly. The darts struck Stoke in his chest, the electricity burning into his flesh casting smoke through the bullet holes, but the man didn't appear phased at all as he chased the unfortunate man back into his own house.</p><p>"Well, if you really want to fight him, now's your chance" Troy noted. "All you're witnesses have either ran away or been murdered." A grim way to put it, but an honest assessment of the situation.</p><p>"I'm coming with you" Freya said jumping to her feet, but Jack quickly pushed her back behind the car, telling her to stay put. "No!" she objected. "You can't do this alone!"</p><p>"I have to" he told her, reminding her of what Azrael had been trying to drill into him in his training. "I need to be able to fight these things without aid if I'm going to be the Reaper. But more importantly, out of the two of us, I'm the only one who could survive a fight with him. I'm immortal, you are not. I can't let anything happen to you."</p><p>Freya wanted to snap a remark about being treated like a child, but her eyes caught the gruesome sight of the bodies littering the street. She'd heard stories about the Onryo, of how they were dangerous and almost unstoppable. She used to have nightmares of them coming after her. He was right. There was no guarantee even Jack could stop him. "What if we figure out who it is he's after?" she suggested. But then her own heart clenched in response and she felt disgusted at herself.</p><p>"I really don't want to feed that monster another innocent life" Jack replied. "Whether he deserves it or not." She nodded. There was no other choice. "Stay here. Keep Troy safe" he asked her as he stepped out from behind cover to walk towards the house.</p><p>"Be careful" she called out to him.</p><p><em>I'll try</em> he thought nervously.</p><p>The crossed through the carnage, dreading every step as he avoided body parts and blood, jumping onto the pavement. The stench of death was everywhere, inflaming his senses making him lightheaded. The brand on his palm burned white hot the closer he walked to the single floored building, goose bumps rising on his arms. He wondered how bad it would be to just turn around and run, leave Stoke here in his house. <em>How bad would it be? As long as nobody goes inside, </em>voice in his head whispered. But then Jack remembered when he and Mira walked by, stumbling upon the crime scene by accident. What if next time Jack wasn't with her? Next time Mira could be the one Stoke killed. Or a kid in the neighbourhood steps too close, kicks a football into his garden or goes snooping. He didn't have a choice.</p><p>He stepped up to the front door, still wide open and inviting. Inside he heard the whimpering of the police officer as he pleaded with Stoke desperately. There was a faint growl, his broken voice rattling, before the officer suddenly screamed. Jack closed his eyes as he heard the tell-tale snapping of bone, feeling the man pass on violently to the afterlife. He gulped as he pulled out his sword, sitting out of phase on his hip until he wrapped his hand around the handle. With the silver blade in hand he crept down the dark hallway, blood splattered across the walls, the closet door smashed with a giant hole through it on his right. He stepped on something feeling it crack under his boot and he prayed it wasn't a piece of someone's skull.</p><p>As he came to the corner leading into the living room he found the dead officer, his head looking at him from an unnatural angle. A lit torch lay beside him, but Jack had a feeling it wasn't his as a female's hand still clung to it. Its light shone into the room, crimson blood covering the lens, casting a creepy red glow across the walls and ceiling. Within this red haze stood Stoke, his back to the entrance staring at the wall like the Blair witch. Jack sucked in a nervous breath, stepping out of the hallway into the room. He did a quick scan of the room, furniture tossed and scattered like there had been a hurricane. A broken photo frame sat by Jack's foot, the image of Stoke and his wife and son. Joseph's face had been scratched out along with his mother. He heard they moved out of the old man's house and didn't get along with him. Troy told him he was quite angry when he last saw him.</p><p><em>Angry enough to keep himself from staying dead</em>.</p><p>Jack froze when his foot found a creaky floorboard, catching the monster's attention as he suddenly rattled angrily, turning his head to face the intruding reaper. "Do you know who I am?" Jack asked him. He found that most of the supernatural entities he'd come up against recognised the new Grim Reaper, which saved a lot of explanation and time. Mostly it triggered the fight faster, all of them aware that his predecessor had been killed and thus it was possible to take out his uneducated replacement. Once he managed to avoid a skirmish with a wandering ghost, who simply retreated into his native realm apologising profusely. He'd like more of that. Maybe Stoke would be up for a peaceful resolution when he sees he's talking to Death himself.</p><p>Stoke narrowed his vacant gaze at the young man, examining him carefully. "I know you" he growled. "You're the boy my son despises. Jackie."</p><p>"It's Jack<em>son</em>" Jack corrected him. <em>Of course Joseph mentioned me. And I hate that nickname!</em></p><p>His eyes suddenly darkened, a snarl forming on his face. "Where is my son?" he demanded. "Bring him to me!"</p><p>"I have no idea where your son is" he replied diplomatically, hoping to keep him talking.</p><p>"Bring him to me so I can rip that punk's heart out and crush his skull. His and that whore mother of his!"</p><p>"Ah, now see, as much as I'd love to help you with that" Jack replied, "I'm afraid I can't let you keep murdering everyone."</p><p>"THEN GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" he bellowed, suddenly lunging at him.</p><p><em>Well, negotiations are over</em>, he declared as he blocked the initial attack from the Onryo.</p><p>Azrael forgot to mention how powerfully strong these vengeful spirits were as Stoke ran at Jackson, grabbing him by the jacket and slamming him into the wall. Jack's spine cracked against the solid mass, sending a jolt of pain through his body. If he was mortal that would've killed him instantly. "Ow" he hissed, kicking back at the angry older man until his grip loosened, shoving Stoke away with a powerful thrust of his palms sending him crashing across the living room.</p><p>Jack' heart was pounding in his chest as he caught his breath, feeling his body healing as his skin became tougher compensating for the threat he was facing. Meanwhile his mind was firing on all cylinders, asking questions in rapid succession. <em>Why does Stoke want Joseph so badly? Is he the one whose hate brought him back to life? Does this mean he had something to do with his father's death?</em></p><p>
  <em>If you deliver this Joseph Stoke to his father, this curse would be broken without any further bloodshed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Except Joseph's.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Would that really be such a bad thing after everything he's done? And what if he's responsible for his father's death? That would mean he's responsible for creating this monster. All those innocent lives he's taken are his fault. This fate would be justice.</em>
</p><p>Jack was too distracted by the tempting words inside his head to see Stoke pick himself up off the floor and fix his furious gaze on him. He roared like an animal, leaping forward to sprint towards the reaper, cracking him in the side of the head with his fist. The punch felt like a mallet hitting the side of Jack's skull, sending him careening into the nearby fireplace where he smashed his forehead on the mantle. Jack saw stars as he stumbled back, blood running down his nose from the fresh cut on his forehead. He didn't have time to recover as Stoke grabbed his face and slammed his head into the brick wall, punching a hole into the plaster hard enough to crack a mortal's skull open like an egg.</p><p>But jack was no ordinary mortal. His skull stayed intact though his brain was rattled within giving him a throbbing headache. He pushed through the daze and yelled a battle cry, pushing away from the wall to send the man to the floor, rolling out of his grasp to leap to his feet. He held the sword aloft and swung down at him, the blade cutting through Stoke's shoulder down to the bone. The man screamed in pain, swiping at him with a backhand that missed its mark. Jack pulled the sword free and swung at his exposed hip, cleaving a large gash in his body. Stoke hissed angrily, glaring back at him ignoring the wound.</p><p><em>He's not going down! </em>Jack's mind panicked.</p><p>The Onryo's resilience to pain was astonishing. Jack wished he could say the same as he felt a hand wrap around his throat and begin crushing it. His lips turned blue as he lost his ability to breath, slapping at the man's arm as he was carried across the room into the hall to be pinned to a wall. Stoke raised him up, his head nearly touching the ceiling, unleashing a rattling growl as he tried to squeeze the life out of him. But somehow Jack was able to stay conscious, despite the lack of oxygen reaching his brain. So he was wide awake for when an impatient Onryo decided to punch a hole into the boy's stomach.</p><p>Jack cried out in agony as Stoke's fist buried itself into his midsection, blood leaking over the man's arm as he twisted his fist and pushed up towards his rib cage. Jack felt it moving through his body, clawing at his organs scratching tears into them. He screamed through gritted teeth as he kicked at the man's shoulders, grabbing the arm pinning him to the wall and twisting sharply. He manged to dislodge his grip, causing the man to roar as he yanked out whatever his other hand managed to get a hold of. Jack witnessed his own insides get dragged out of his body, feeling every painful motion as nerves and arteries snapped, slumping to his knees clutching his bleeding stomach. Tears formed in his eyes, the pain unbearable. Yet he was still conscious, standing, and alive. <em>So this is what immortality feels like</em> he grimaced.</p><p>Stoke seemed surprised that the boy wasn't dead, which enraged him even further. He dropped Jack's organs and grabbed the back of his jacket, yelling wildly as he threw him headfirst into the ceiling watching him bounce off onto the hard ground below. Jack groaned as he rolled onto his back, trying to block out the pain in his stomach as he scrambled to his fallen sword. When he got his fingers around it a fist collided with his face, making him eat the carpet and sending more stars through his vision.</p><p>Frustration proved to be his saving grace and Jack found his second wind. He took a large gulp of air, pulling his feet under him, and jumped backward colliding with Stoke sending him stumbling back. Before he could retaliate Jack spun around, igniting his right hand with Hellfire and flinging a haymaker into the side of Stoke's temple. He felt his knuckles crack against the Onryo's skull, wincing in pain thinking he'd just broke his hand, the flames barely tickling the man's flesh turning it black. Stoke growled unimpressed, but Jack was fast to follow up with a furious charge. He brought his sword up, aimed the sharp blade at the man's heart, infused the metal with hellfire and impaled the Onryo in the chest pinning it against the wall as the blade buried itself in the brick. Stoke wailed inhumanly before falling limp against the wall, leaving a panting reaper pushing the sword through him and the wall.</p><p><em>Yes!</em> He thought.</p><p>But then Stoke's vacant eyes looked up at him, his lips curling into a snarl.</p><p>"Fuck! You are a stubborn bastard aren't you?" Jack cursed, forcing the sword deeper and pummelling the man with his fists. But Stoke caught his hand and head-butted the boy, sending him stumbling backwards in a gaze only to slip on his own blood. That gave him enough time to grab the handle of the sword in his chest and pull himself free, pushing himself over the pommel tearing the hole in his body wider until he was free, leaving a gaping wound in his chest for Jack to stare through.</p><p>"Okay, sacrificing Joseph is starting to sound like a good idea" he muttered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter 31</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>28</p><p>Outside in the empty street Freya and Troy sat behind the car, agitated and glancing around the nearby windows. Freya kept rubbing her pendant, itching to use it to bring out her wings and jump into the fight to help her friend. But every time she seemed to consider it she felt goose bumps on her skin, sensing mortal eyes on her. But the only mortal nearby that could expose her was Troy. All the rest were hiding behind their curtains out of sight. The stench of blood filled the air around her making her stomach churn. Next to her Troy was trying to control his breathing, his foot tapping on the concrete. A part of him wondered what he was still doing here. He should just run home where it's safe, let Jack and Freya deal with it themselves. He could sense the girl fidgeting next to him, her eyes glancing towards him every so often as she toyed with her necklace. He'd already seen her with her wings, but he understood she apparently had rules to follow keeping her from bringing them out. He could tell sitting still was driving her crazy, especially when they heard crashing from inside the building.</p><p>"He'll be fine" He said spontaneously, trying to lift their spirits. "He's actually a lot braver than he gives himself credit for. I've seen him stand down bullies and groups of older kids threatening to harm him without blinking. Sometimes he's like the immovable object only smarter. He doesn't know the meaning of giving up."</p><p>"I know" she replied quietly.</p><p>"And that was before he got superpowers" he continued. "But I've never seen him this confident. It makes a change to be honest." He looked across to the worried young woman, taking the opportunity to ask her a question he'd been asking Jack since he met her. "So, you and Jack seem close. If you don't mind me asking, are you two…"</p><p>She looked back at him mildly confused. "We're friends" she told him.</p><p>"Yeah, no, I mean… Are you two together? It looked like I interrupted something back at his place and you seem really worried for him."</p><p>Freya felt her cheeks turn red slightly, unsure how to respond. Thankfully they were interrupted by the sound of a shape crashing through the garage door attached to the bungalow. They both turn and peer over the bonnet to see Jack bouncing onto the ground as the garage door crumples underneath him. They watch him roll onto his front, coughing up blood clutching onto his stomach. Freya and Troy's eyes widen as they realised he was holding his own intestines inside his belly through a giant gash in his body. "Jack!" Freya screamed in panic, going to run out into the street until Troy grabbed her holding her back.</p><p>"Stay back!" he called back to her, insisting she stay out of sight. He groaned in pain as he felt his body try to heal itself, the muscles and flesh knitting back together as he pushed his organs back into place. The wound wouldn't stop bleeding though, making his skin and clothes sticky and red. How is he still awake? He could see his friends hiding behind the car, safely out of sight of the Onryo.</p><p>There was a worrying buzzing sound coming from the garage he had just been kicked out of, looking back into the dark interior to see the large shadow stumbling out into the light. His vacant eyes glared out at the reaper, his right hand covered in blood as he pulled on the cord to the chainsaw in his hands, the weapon buzzing to life as he stepped out into the street.</p><p>Crap!</p><p>He scrambled backwards along the pavement, reaching for the nearest vehicle behind him so he could pull himself to his feet just in time to see Stoke charging forward swinging the chainsaw over his head. Jack dodged to the side watching the saw cut into the windscreen of the police car behind him, shattering the glass as sparks flew from the metal. He tried to knock the man back with another hellfire punch, but it was just as ineffective as the last strike. Stoke retaliated with another swing of the chainsaw, grazing the tip of Jack's nose as they stumbled away before the man, using his momentum, to shoulder barge Jack onto the floor. He managed to stay on his feet, rising up on one knee looking up at the growling madman, the glint of the chainsaw drawing his eye as it came swinging down on top of him. He reacted instinctively blocking the weapon with his arm, screaming in agony as it sliced through to the bone.</p><p>Freya struggled in Troy's arms as they both watched the chainsaw cut through Jack's arm like it was butter, blood spraying everywhere as his voice rang through the neighbourhood. He was in so much pain. She could hear the sound of metal scraping bone as Stoke pushed his weapon downwards burying it deeper. She tried to run in and help but Troy dragged her back behind the car. "Let go! He's needs help!" she cried.</p><p>"Are you crazy!" he replied wrapping a strong arm around her shoulders. "You forget what Jack said? You won't last five seconds against that thing. He's immortal. He'll be fine, right? You know how this Grim Reaper stuff works?"</p><p>Freya did know how this reaper stuff works. But at the same time there were so much uncertainty. Marcus died, the first reaper to do so. And Jackson was the first one in her memory to still be a living mortal rather than a deceased spirit. She didn't know what that meant for the rules. Before, Marcus would demonstrate that his skin was indestructible and nothing could harm him. She'd seen him brush off hellfire that hit him square in the chest. But with Jack, he can be hurt. And if Marcus could be killed, so could Jack.</p><p>She explained all this to Troy. "Yeah, but he's still immortal" he said, his voice suddenly unsure. "If he loses an arm, it'll just grow back right?" She glanced over her shoulder at him, her uncertain gaze not at all comforting. She didn't know for sure. "Oh boy" Troy muttered under his breath, more determined than ever to stay out of this fight.</p><p>Jack didn't have time to question the mechanics of his immortality or healing factor as kicked out at Stoke wildly. His heel connected with the man's chin, sending the man sprawling yanking the saw out of his arm. Jack cried out in pain as blood squirted from the wide gorge, feeling jagged pieces of his exposed bone cutting into his nerves. The pain was intense, the blood loss making him dizzy. He couldn't do this. He was getting cut to ribbons.</p><p>You're not committing to your attacks! Stop hoping it will get easier and attack him like a Reaper! Hit him and mean it!</p><p>Stoke released a death rattle as he charged forward again, once more bringing the chainsaw down over his head. Jack fell onto his back watching the bloody weapon fall towards him, throwing his arms up to stop it. but this time the blade didn't clash with flesh and bone, instead solid enchanted oak as Marcus's scythe materialised in Jack's hands protecting his face. He braced the weapon between them, the sharp metal glinting in the sunlight as it hummed with magic. Jack could feel it flowing through his arms, numbing the pain and stopping the bleeding, his strength returning.</p><p>He got his third wind, using it to shove the Onryo away and leap to his feet swinging the scythe at the man's head. The blunt side whacked his skull with a sharp crack, sending Stoke into the swat van with a thud. Jack panted heavily, the weapon heavy in his arms. The last time it appeared like this he was in Derby when he needed it most. Marcus told him it would answer his call. When did I call it? No matter. He held it in both hands and swung it like a hammer down onto Stoke's back, making sure the sharp end pierced his back cutting through his body.</p><p>Stoke screamed as he was impaled (again) growling in fury as he shot his elbow backwards hitting Jack square in the nose. He saw stars, giving Stoke time to pull himself away from the scythe and spin around, cutting the chainsaw into Jack's size while he was distracted. He grit his teeth ignoring the pain, jabbing at his opponent with the scythe before slashing across his chest with it, cutting across the man's arms making him loose his grip, the chainsaw slicing down Jack's leg as it fell out of Stoke's grasp. But that left his hands free to grab Jack by the head, slamming his skull against the side of the van, then his face into the side windows at an angle that not only shattered it but cut through his right side. He cried out as blood poured into his right eye, blurring half his vision as he felt one side of his skin peel away. He tried to fight back but Stoke kicked him hard in the gut, knocking the weapon from his hands, throwing the boy down onto the ground on top of the chainsaw.</p><p>Jack was able to brace himself on the concrete with his palms, the weapon buzzing in front of his face. Stoke dropped down onto his back trying to shove him onto the blade, putting all his weight behind him. Jack stared at the bloody and sharp weapon skittering in front of him, his face being pushed closer and closer, feeling the electrifying air between them as the metal skimmed his nose again. It took all his strength to hold himself away, and even more to throw Stoke off him using the window to grab the nearest shard of glass he could grab. He gripped it tightly, cutting deep into his palm, as he plunged it up into the man's face sinking straight through the eye socket. Stoke roared in fury, yanking Jack off the ground and sending him hurtling through the air back into the house through the window. Jack landed like a ragdoll crashing into the kitchen through a dividing wall, the air knocked out of his lungs, head spinning.</p><p>Still alive he groaned.</p><p>Stoke pulled the glass out of his eye, his voice rattling as he picked up the chainsaw once again and followed the boy into the house using the front door. The shattered window collapsed as the door swung shut, leaving a massive gap in the front of the building perpendicular to the broken garage door. Tory and Freya peeked out from their hiding spot having witnessed the whole fight. They were both thinking the same thing. "What do we do if Jack can't beat him?"</p><p>Freya was done waiting and hoping. She delivered a swift elbow into Troy's side to free herself from his grasp, muttering an apology as she darted around the car running towards the house. Troy shouted after her but she wasn't listening. Her heart was pounding in her chest, the pendant around her neck humming quietly, the sensation of familiar magic flickering through her fingertips. Jack needed her help. She couldn't let him down, not like she let down Marcus.</p><p>Jack groaned as he stirred awake in the middle of the kitchen, looking up at the large workplace stationed in the middle of the room, cupboards and sink and oven circling around it. It would be a nice kitchen if it wasn't broken and covered in blood with a body slumped in the corner. He glanced up and was unfortunate to see the owner walking towards him, the chainsaw buzzing in his hand. He rolled out of the way as Stoke tried to lash out at him, but the room was too cramped for the large weapon to be effective. It gave Jack a chance to push himself to his feet and pummel the man with punches. He hit the man with a swift jab charged with Hellfire, the flames scorching one side of his face. But Stoke just growled, grabbed Jack's head and smashed him into the counter watching his forehead bounce off the table top. He did it two more times, each slam cracking a larger hole into the surface, each strike cutting Jack's head open a few centimetres more. By the time Stoke was done Jack's head was covered in splinters with blood pouring out of the large cut across his left side, his body limp and his head throbbing. He didn't struggle as Stoke tossed him over the counter into the far wall, breaking the top cupboards and collapsing to the floor with wood and dishes raining down on top of him.</p><p>Stoke stalked around the counter slowly, his breathing raspy and laboured, his pale skin speckled with blood and ash, wounds and scars and boils covering his body. His eye was a gaping hole where he yanked the glass away, but he could still see clearly. His voice rattled as he growled menacingly, walking around the countertop to find the young man lying on the floor covered in debris. He saw him move as he released a quiet groan. "I don't know how you are still alive" he hissed, unable to understand or even care how or why this kid wouldn't die like the others. "But once I've dealt with you, I'm going to find my family. I'm going to find my son. And I am going to crush his…"</p><p>Stoke was interrupted by the sudden sensation of a knife being plunged into his back between his shoulder blades, the metal white hot burying itself into his spine. He reared up screeching in agony, feeling a shape latch onto his body plunging the knife as deep as it could throwing their weight forward.</p><p>"Jack!" Freya cried out seeing her friend strewn on the floor over Stoke's shoulder. She had snuck into the house through the broken window and found Stoke in the kitchen, quickly grabbing the knife and infusing the metal with her magic. Now that she was inside there was nobody to see her, nobody to violate the White City's laws. She leapt onto Stoke's back and stabbed him as hard as she could, hoping to drive him to the ground so she could help Jack escape.</p><p>But Stoke was stronger than she predicted, and much stronger than her. He regained his footing and sent them both backwards as Freya clung to the man's thin frame. He tried to shake her off and managed to dislodge her back slamming his back against the fridge, twisting to the left throwing her away. She manged to angle her body so she landed on the nearby counter rather than fall to the floor, quickly sliding to the right as Stoke spun on his heel and drove an angry fist into the wall next to her. Thinking on her feet she threw out her hand, holding her forefinger and pinkie outstretched as she dragged her middle finger along her thumb, drawing a handful of her magic into her palm flicking it at Stoke's snarling face. It was a simple and handy defensive trick she was taught when she was three years old, but only as dangerous and it would be setting off a flare in someone's eyes. Stoke hissed angrily, swinging back at her wildly, but she was already dropping to the floor and ducking out of his reach.</p><p>Jack could hear her struggling with Stoke, dragging his mind back out of the foggy darkness to reality as he struggled to regain feeling in his limbs. Everything hurt. His arm, his leg, his gut, his eye, his skull, nothing felt okay. Through the fog he heard Freya calling to him. Or was it Mira? Or Kassie? It could be Troy, or Azrael, or Marcus? Who was screaming in his head?</p><p>Freya tried to circle around to Jack, but Stoke was blocking her path. Thankfully he was still dazed so his fists only connected with the counter or furniture. She looked around for something to help her, absently tracing a sigil into her palm that would supercharge the next weapon with energy. She found a nearby cleaver and picked it up, rushing the Onryo and slashing the utensil into his shoulder channelling a burst of yellow energy through it making his shoulder explode. Stoke roared in fury, his left arm swinging in her direction faster than she could react, catching her in a powerful backhand that sent her flying backwards. Her body spun in the air out of her control, her head cracking against the counter top as she fell to the ground unconscious. In one swift motion Freya was out of the fight and at Stoke's mercy.</p><p>Jack weakly pushed himself up on shaking arms, the cut on his right inflaming pouring with blood as he blinked through the red haze of this vision. He scanned the ground around him, the images shifting from a kitchen to a dusty landscape to a grassy field to a pool of lava. He took him a moment to realise he was staring through the multiverse all at once, unable to focus properly. He twisted his head, the dull ringing in his ears getting louder, the throbbing headache getting worse, until his eyes glimpsed a faint image of Freya slumped on the ground lifeless. Panic swelled in his chest as he forced his gaze upwards, seeing the dark shadow of Stoke walking toward her, the chainsaw in his hands, his vacant gaze fixed on her body. He heard the deathly rattle of the Onryo as he brought the chainsaw to life, raising it over his head glaring down at the helpless angle.</p><p>"NO!" Jack yelled, adrenaline shooting through his body driving him forward as he stepped between the two of them, phasing through the countertop effortlessly bracing against Stoke's arms as he brought the chainsaw down. The weapon hung above Jack's head as he stood over Freya's still body, the two arms shaking as they each pushed in opposite directions. Stoke glared at Jack as he leant forward, pushing his weight onto the young but weakened man driving him to his knees, the chainsaw buzzing next to his ear. He kept his eyes on Stoke, glaring back with an equally amount of determination. He won't let this monster hurt Freya.</p><p>The anger built inside Jack's body, igniting the brand on his palm burning into Stoke's flesh. The man hissed but ignored the sensation. Jack glanced at the smouldering wrist he was holding, an idea flashing before his eyes suggestively. It was risky. But it might work. But it was going to hurt. Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves, Jack braced himself and let go with his right hand. Without him holding it up Stoke was able to drive the Chainsaw down into Jack's collarbone, slicing deep into his body between his neck and shoulder. He screamed in agony, blood flying everywhere as flesh and bone and nerves were shredded, the blade sinking further towards his ribcage. Stoke snarled in glee but Jack glared back defiantly, reaching out with his now free hand clawing at Stoke's face.</p><p>The moment his fingers dug into the side of the man's skull, Hellfire surged through the brand searing it into the Onryo. Jack's head snapped back as his mind went white, heat and fire engulfing them both as he was plunged into a cyclone of madness. Hellfire roared around him as he plummeted through images and moments of Stoke's life, memories and nightmares and fantasies. He saw Joseph growing up, saw the day his wife left him, saw how he drank himself to sleep. He witnessed every gruesome fantasy of what the man wanted to do to them in revenge, hundreds of ways he wanted to torture and rape and mutilate and murder his family. He felt the hate that brought him back as an Onryo, the burning fury that filled his soul. He saw it all, felt it all, moments before they were scorched into oblivion by hellfire leaving an empty void behind him. The last thing Jack experienced was the brutal agony of Stoke's death, writhing on the floor covered in boils and puss and blood, staring up at the image of a petrified face on a leather bound book.</p><p>Jack blinked and found himself kneeling in the kitchen once more. Stoke stared back at him, his eyes blackened and melted, his tongue charred inside his pitch black throat, smoke coming out of his ears and nostrils. The silent man slipped out of Jack's grasp, skin peeling away from his fingers, the mark of Hellfire branded on the side of his face as he suddenly collapsed lifelessly to the floor. Jack gasped, looking down to see the chainsaw dislodged from his chest and lying at their feet. He sighed in relief, muttering a shrunken "go back to Hell" before slumping onto the floor next to the unconscious angel, lying in a pool of his own blood as he finally passed out.</p>
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<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Chapter 32</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>29</p><p>Jack opened his eyes to find himself standing in a familiar side street, dressed in a black jacket and blue jeans, wearing his favourite grey shirt underneath. But he was also wearing a custom built holster for a plastic science fiction pistol, a modified proton pack strapped over his shoulders, a tin foil and pipe cleaner headset hooked over his left ear running around over his eye. He wasn't one to dress up, but he couldn't argue with the result. Daniel was brilliant with cosplay and had outfitted most of the group.</p><p>He looked up from the camera he was standing behind, angling the lens on the tripod to get his study partner into perfect frame as she waited patiently across the street. A few minutes later the photo was taken capturing a crystal clear image. Jack would be proud if it was his camera he was using and not a loan from the university. "How was that?" his partner asked.</p><p>"Perfect" he replied with a smile, quietly referring to both the photo and the subject matter. But he was biased, for Kassie always looked perfect in his eyes.</p><p>Kassie was dressed up in a silver coat zipped up the front with matching pants tucked into white shoes, white gloves on her hands, and white highlights in her blonde hair. She stood holding a toy staff with rubber ends, a fake alien bow staff to counter Jack's fake laser gun. And to complete the look her face was painted blue and pink with black lines and white patterns, a design of her own choosing, with white contacts hiding her grey irises. She looked incredible, though she was slightly self-conscious about being in costume in public. Fortunately for her this side street they were using for the photoshoot was virtually deserted.</p><p>She saw Jack staring and asked "Is everything okay?"</p><p>"Huh" he blinked, lost briefly in his own world. "Yeah, everything's fine. You look great. Just…amazing." He couldn't be sure but he thought she was blushing under the face paint. He checked back on the photo's they'd captured all afternoon, with help from another pair of students who'd briefly high-jacked their project so they could all help each other. Ajay proved to be a rather demanding director though so after he and his partner decided they were done for the day Jack and Kassie decided to get some final pictures without the energetic boy's interference. "These things should get a few points from our tutors" Jack commented crossing his arms. "Despite that fact this whole thing has nothing to do with our coursework."</p><p>"It's better than building birdhouses in a workshop we never use" she laughed.</p><p>He chuckled in agreement. This particular module they were working through was meant to be more of a team bonding exercise introducing everyone to everyone, even though the projects contributed nothing to their main coursework. But it gave Jackson time to get to know Kassie a lot better, something he'd been wishing for since he laid eyes on her. "So," he said clearing his throat, "do you want to get something to eat after this? The food court's not that far."</p><p>"Dressed like this?" she asked glancing at her reflection in a nearby window.</p><p>"You look fine" he told her encouragingly. "And this is Derby, I doubt anyone will notice."</p><p>She didn't look convinced, saying "thanks, but I really should be getting home. I still have a lot of work to do."</p><p>Jack was disappointed, but he understood. He had his own mountain of work he was putting off. "Okay. Can I at least walk you home?"</p><p>"I'd like that" she replied. He smiled happily. "Maybe we should get one more picture, just in case?"</p><p>"Yeah, good idea." He set the timer on the camera and made his way across the street into position. They stood before each other, aiming their toy weapons at the other in an action pose just as the brief requested. "Maybe we could do this again sometime" he suggested.</p><p>"What? Get into costume and fight in the streets?" she chuckled.</p><p>"As fun as that sounds…I was thinking more just us two hanging out. As friends?"</p><p>Kassie broke into a wide smile that gave Jack butterflies. "Yeah, we should" she agreed. They both smiled before quickly switching into character ready for the photo.</p><p>To Jackson, this would be one of his greatest memories. Which is why it was the first thing he thought of as he finally woke up from his fight with Stoke.</p><p>"Kassie!" Jack called out, groggy and dizzy as he shot up in bed, immediately met with an awful stabbing pain in his body that set his arms and legs on fire. Everything hurt and there was a massive pounding in his skull, the force of the agony driving him back into bed. "Ow" he complained as a figure stood over him.</p><p>"Take it easy kid" Azrael said hovering over the young man, his dark eyes examining his injuries. Jack's torso was covered in bandages wrapped around his midsection and shoulder, with more encasing his arm and leg, another around his head covering one of his eyes. The rest of his skin was covered in bruises, cuts and scrapes. But now that he was awake they began to heal on their own, and he could feel the large gashes made by the chainsaw beginning to knit back together. It hurt like hell but it wasn't as bad as when they were made. "Curious" Azrael muttered watching Jack's body repair itself. "Usually these wounds would've healed at the moment they were made. But with you being living there's some sort of delay. Apparently you need to be conscious for your body to heal, as if your conscious mind controls how much damage you can sustain. We'll have to work on that."</p><p>"What happened?" he asked, only catching a third of what the Angel of Death was saying. He tried to remember the fight, his eyes widening all of a sudden. "Freya, she… Stoke! Where's Stoke!"</p><p>"Hey, it's alright!" Azrael told him, pushing him back onto the mattress. "The Onryo is gone. Whatever you did to him, it was enough to destroy it. I'd never seen a reaper physically destroy an Onryo without sacrificing the grudge holder before. What happened?"</p><p>"I don't know. We were fighting, then I grabbed him…The brand! The Hellfire Brand. I used it to pierce his mind, set his thoughts and memories on fire." He looked up at the angel, who suddenly had an ashen look on his face. "I killed his mind. How is that possible?"</p><p>"That's the power of the magic you hold in your hand" he warned. "When the black priests forge something, they don't mess around. I've heard stories of their minions wielding such magic and bringing down entire civilisations, burning kingdoms and whole realms to dust. You need to be careful in harnessing this thing boy."</p><p>Jack looked at the mark on his palm, the heat gone, the echoes of the energy he unleashed hovering around like a phantom. He knew he'd need to understand how to use it properly before he tried something like that again. He didn't even know what he was thinking when he grabbed Stoke and entered his mind. He was just trying to save… "Freya! Is she okay?"</p><p>Azrael chuckled, nodding to the chair beside Jack's bed. "Why don't you ask her yourself? She's been here since you were brought back."</p><p>He looked across and found her slumped in the seat pulled up beside him, her head lying on her arm resting on the edge of the mattress. Her blonde hair had fallen over her face obscuring her slumbering features, the soft sound of her breathing passing through her lips. Jack cautiously reached out and pulled her blonde hair to the side to see the plaster on her forehead, a large bruise surrounding the black eye on the left side of her face, a small cut on her lip. But otherwise she seemed okay. He sighed in relief. "How long was I out?" he asked Azrael.</p><p>"Just a few hours" he replied walking to the door. As he approached he pointed to the weapon sitting in the corner by the window, "That was brought in with you." Jack looked across and saw Marcus's scythe silently looking back at him. "We'll talk tomorrow" Azrael declared, a hint of pride in his grin as he left the tow of them alone.</p><p>Jack let out a long sigh as he stared up at the ceiling of his room. This wasn't the room the others had offered when he became the reaper. They offered to give him Marcus's room. But it was too big for him and it didn't feel right taking it all down while his killer was still out there. So he walked the hallways and picked out a smaller place of his own, a bare space with stone walls, a balcony to look out into the colourful void, a queen size bed against one wall and a study on the opposite side. There was even a door leading to an ensuite bathroom for his convenience. And in the corner an armchair where he could sit and relax looking out of the window. There were no decorations yet, but he could see potential in this place.</p><p>He rolled onto his side, awkwardly wincing in pain as he shifted his weight, so he could look across to the sleeping young angel beside him. Reaching out he gently brushed the hair from her face, stirring her awake. "Jack?" she whispered, wiping her eyes as they blinked open. She lifted her head and found him staring back. "You're awake!"</p><p>"Yeah" he replied, trying to sit up with her. "Are you okay?" he asked touching the bruise on her cheek, his gaze fixed worryingly on her black eye.</p><p>"I'm fine" she told him, gently taking his hand away. "Nothing some crushed healing herbs can't fix. How about you? How are you feeling?"</p><p>"Like I got run over by the demolition derby" he joked.</p><p>She stared back blankly. "I have no idea what that is, but I'm glad you're okay."</p><p>Jack chuckled, the laugh hurting his chest. He sat back shaking his head, still staring at her. "I thought I told you to stay out that fight."</p><p>"I couldn't let him hurt you" she explained. "I know you said it was dangerous, but when I saw you bleeding…there was so much blood. I was afraid… I was afraid what happened to Marcus would happen to you too." She almost broke into tears, swallowing back to pitiful sobs as Jack took her hand comfortingly. "I had to try and help. I'm sorry."</p><p>Jack didn't know what to say, so instead he just squeezed her hand gently. It seemed to be enough as her face returned to a smile. "I'm glad you had my back" he said gratefully.</p><p>"Thank you for saving me, again" she replied.</p><p>"Yeah, that's starting to be a habit" he observed. They both laughed as Freya flushed with embarrassment. They sat there for a while just laughing and smiling until exhaustion came over Jack again. "What time is it?" he asked after checking his empty wrist.</p><p>Freya reached up and found his watch on the nightstand, holding it up to him. "Around four on earth."</p><p>He nodded, settling back to bed. "Good. Means I get another hour before my parents start wondering where I am. I think I'm going to just lie here and pass out."</p><p>"That's a good idea" Freya nodded, settling back in her chair watching Jack close his eyes.</p><p>After a minute Jack peeked over and found her still sitting there. "You know, you don't have to stay" he told her.</p><p>"I know" she replied resting on her elbow. "But I want to."</p><p>Jack rolled his eyes as he took a slow, lazy breath. He didn't have the strength or the heart to argue with her as he let himself fall back asleep, letting his mind and body recover from the day's events, all with the loyal angel watching over him.</p>
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<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Chapter 33</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>30</p><p>It was almost half six in the evening when Troy ordered his second drink from the bar. He was sitting in <em>The Acorn</em> by himself, silently processing everything that he had experienced that day. And it was a lot to process. When he woke up this morning, all he thought he had to worry about was convincing his best friend to join him on a night out. But since then he's witnessed the massacre at the hospital morgue, followed Jack and Freya to the site of a police standoff against a dead man who supposedly willed himself back to life and bore witness to the brutal murders of dozens of police officers.</p><p>He felt helpless as he huddled behind the car while Jack left to fight Stoke, even as he allowed Freya to chase after him. He waited and listened, hearing the buzz of the chainsaw and the crashing inside the house. He thought he could hear Jack's screams and Stokes roars, hoping they were just exaggerated by his fear. But when everything went quiet Troy forced himself to come out of hiding and investigate.</p><p>He stepped carefully through the wreckage, expecting to find Stoke waiting around a corner to kill him, creeping through the dark hallways littered with debris. He found the undead monster lying on the ground in the kitchen with both his eyes hollowed out into smoking craters, his pale skin blackened as if he'd been set on fire from the inside. Then he found both Jackson and Freya lying side by side on the floor a few feet away from him, rushing to their side in a panic. Jack was battered and bloody with cuts and gashes all over his body, his flesh torn apart able to see blood vessels and bone underneath. In comparison Freya was immaculate, only a cut across her forehead and the first hints of a black eye. He chose to check on her first, hoping he could wake her and get her help. Luckily for him she awoke to him shaking her, opening her eyes to find Jack slumped on the ground ghostly still. She freaked out, crawling over to him shouting his name. She and Troy tried to find Jack's pulse, unable to feel a heartbeat or feel his breath. But Freya claimed he was alive, able to sense his life force or something. So taking her word for it, he helped her carry the limb body out of the house into the street. He realised Jack was a lot heavier than he had thought as he dragged him through the shattered front door, finally dropping him on the concrete where Freya thanked him for his help before they both vanished into a rainbow portal leaving him amidst the carnage of Ilkeston. He didn't stick around to answer questions to the police who came to investigate. He went straight home and cleaned his hands of the whole affair.</p><p>He considered texting his friend to check on him, but decided he didn't want to hear Jackson had gotten himself killed again so instead came here for a drink. Maybe he'd wait for him to call first, or try his phone the next morning. For now he just wanted to forget the horrors he'd witnessed.</p><p>"I guess I owe you a drink" a voice said as a figure sat beside him, making Troy choke on his drink in shock looking across to find Jackson White sitting at the bar. He was dressed once more in his usual black jacket, the hoodie he was wearing earlier no doubt ruined, and a fresh pair of jeans and new shirt. His boots were the same, the faint outlines of bloodstains hidden within the fabric. He was also wearing his hat now, cocking the wide brim up to look across at his friend with a warm smile. His face was almost healed, the bruises gone and the faint cuts across his left eye fading away. Troy thought he was going to be half blind after that fight but he appeared to be wrong. "How do I look?" Jack asked noting his perplexed stare.</p><p>"A lot better than when I last saw you" he replied.</p><p>"I heal fast" he shrugged.</p><p>Troy shook his head an astonishment, laughing manically. "At least you're not dead" he said slapping him on the back. Jack winced in pain, groaning as he rubbed his shoulder. Troy could see the hints of bandages under his clothes. "Sorry" he apologised.</p><p>"It's fine. Just sore" he told him shaking it off.</p><p>They each ordered their drinks, which Jack offering to pay for, as they took a sip. "So is that the last monster I'll have to worry about?" Tory asked him.</p><p>"I hope so" Jack replied optimistically. "I'll try and keep them out of this plane of existence in the future."</p><p>"I can't tell if you're joking or not" he grumbled staring at his drink.</p><p>"Holy shit, he lives!"</p><p>The new voice interrupted both their thoughts as they turned to see a large broad shouldered man stride towards them followed by a shorter lanky man in a sleeveless vest and a tall lanky figure wearing a heavy metal band T-shirt. It felt like Jack had been flung back into the past seeing three of their old friends together in the pub like this. The lead figure smiled broadly, his face covered in stubble forming a goatee and his black hair combed back. It had only been a few years, but Jack could recognise Brodey Harrison with ease.</p><p>"Good to finally see you again mate" he greeted, slapping Jack on the back hard. "I was starting to think you were avoiding us."</p><p>"No, I've just been busy" he grunted, trying to ignore the aching in his muscles as he smiled back. He cast his eyes across the rest of the trio, recognising Karl Winters from a few days ago looking much the same. Jordan looked different though. His skin was paler like he'd been indoors since they broke from school, his eyes deeper and narrow like he hadn't been sleeping. His limbs were thicker, probably from all the work as a bouncer in the city. But his gaze remained on the ground, unable to meet any of their gaze. "Good to see you guys" he said pleasantly, greeting them each in turn. "Brodey, Karl, Jordan. Sorry we couldn't have met earlier."</p><p>"It's fine" Karl shrugged. "You were entertaining Mira after all."</p><p>"Yeah" Jack nodded, narrowly missing the innuendo as he saw Troy face-palm out the corner of his eye. "Among other things" he added defensively.</p><p>They all crowded around the pair of them, with Brodey scooting next to Troy to ask him quietly "Did you ask him then?"</p><p>"Ask him what?" he mumbled. But when he raised an eyebrow Troy pulled his attention back to the present. "Sorry. Um, yeah I did."</p><p>"And?" he pressed.</p><p>"And I said sure, why not" Jack answered, leaning in to join their hushed conversation. They seemed to forget his hearing was always on point.</p><p>Brodey straightened up, looking rather surprised. "Really? You're coming then?" Jack nodded. "Even with…you know..?"</p><p>"Even with what?" Jack asked while Troy suddenly went pale, realising he'd forgotten something.</p><p>Before he could quickly explain the group was suddenly interrupted by the presence of a lanky young man in blonde hair with angular features, his eyes scanning the room smugly. "What a pleasure to finally see you again old friend" he said loudly, dressed in a grey hoodie and ripped jeans and trainers, his voice cold and mocking. "It's been too long."</p><p>Jack felt the man's eyes on the back of his head, his voice cutting through his ears like a knife. He inhaled sharply, straightening his back as the hair on the back of his neck stood up, heat rising behind his eyes as they instinctively narrowed. The group fell silent as the newcomer stepped between them, the air falling still as they waited. The tension was so thick you could physically feel it. "Not long enough" he replied without turning, a sudden edge to his voice.</p><p>"Oh, don't be like that Jackie-boy" Joseph Stoke said in fake despair. "We had fun didn't we?"</p><p>"Define your idea of fun" he growled, recalling all his games tormenting and bullying the younger kids and intimidating some of the older ones. He heard Joseph chuckle, finally turning in his seat to look back at the familiar cocky grin on the man's face. He could tell already he hadn't changed a bit. "What are you doing here?" he asked.</p><p>He shrugged looking around the pub. "Can't a man get a drink these days?" he asked. "And I was invited. Or rather, I did the inviting" he corrected looking at Brodey. The man looked down sheepishly. "So, I hear you're joining us on our night out next week" he said.</p><p>Jack cocked his head in surprise. "Oh" he said politely, glancing across to his best friend who was conveniently obscuring his face behind his glass. "I didn't realise you'd be attending" he told the young man.</p><p>"Well, it was my idea to begin with" Joseph explained. "Getting the old gang back together. It'll be just like old times."</p><p><em>I certainly hope not</em> he thought.</p><p>"We were just going to get a quiet drink" Brodey said, breaking the tension slightly gesturing to a table in the corner. "So we can just leave you to it" he suggested.</p><p>"Nonsense" Joseph objected. "We're all adults now. I'm sure we can be civil and hang out together." He fixed his cold gaze on Jackson, taking a step closer. "We can catch up, share life stories. What do you think Jackie-boy? Buy your old friends a drink? You can tell us what's been happening. How's the family? How's Mira? I heard she was back."</p><p>Jack knew he was baiting him, hoping to lead into something that would get a rise out of him. The brand warmed up in his palm, responding to his emotions as he took a slow breath. Five years of teasing and jibes and names resurfaced, old wounds reopening making Jack's heart race. He was different now. He could put him in his place like he should've done years ago. He had enough strength and power to throw him through the wall.</p><p>But he'd learnt how to bury those emotions, taught himself to bottle away the rage and not give Joseph the satisfaction of seeing him crack. "She's doing well" he replied calmly. "It's a kind offer, but I need to be heading home."</p><p>"Oh, such a shame" he said, feigning sadness while keeping his smile on his face. "But I guess it's for the best. We wouldn't want you getting stabbed in an alley or something, would we?"</p><p>There was a bristle from the group when he said that. Joseph never was subtle. "At least I still have parents who worry about me" Jack instantly remarked rising out of his seat to stand in front of him. Joseph gave no reaction as he glared back at him. "My condolences for you dad" he said quietly, putting his hat on his head pulling the brim down to hood over his eyes. "You wouldn't have any idea how he died, would you?"</p><p>Joseph stared back silently, giving nothing away. Jack had a theory, something on his mind ever since he fought Stoke in his home that afternoon. From the way he demanded to see his son, he concluded Joseph was the focus for the grudge that brought him back to life and made him an Onryo. But that left the question why, Unless Joseph had something to do with his initial death? He couldn't prove anything, there was no evidence, but Jack had a feeling he was looking at the man who killed his own father. That would make him responsible for all the lives Stoke took in seeking his revenge.</p><p>Joseph kept his expression cold and neutral. "I have no idea" he said, his voice flat and calm. If he was involved, he was a convincing liar. It he wasn't involved, then he was showing no signs of grief. He was just cold. "Made one hell of a livestream though" he chuckled. "Really entertaining."</p><p>"Innocent people died" Jack told him.</p><p>"And so did he" he countered. "So in the end, everything worked out." He laughed again, stepping back making his way to their desired table. "Until next time Jackie-boy" he said, giving him a smug salute before turning his back and striding away. "I look forward to our night out. It should be fun."</p><p>The group all looked at each other awkwardly, their eyes flickering from one to the other. Jordon followed Joseph to their seat, joined by Karl who shrugged apologetically leaving Jack with a silent Troy and Brodey. He had to take another deep breath, feeling the anger rise in his chest once more trying to force it down. He took his drink and gulped the last of it down in one, slamming the glass onto the bar. "I have to go" he said quietly turning to the door.</p><p>Troy felt awful for having not told him the truth. "Jack" he said reaching out to his mate, but the young man just shook him off.</p><p>"We'll talk later" Jack snapped, his voice hollow in a growl as he stormed out of the building, his eyes trained on the path ahead of him. Troy knew he was mad, and was leaving before he could say anything he might regret. He had to let him leave, let him cool off.</p><p>All in all, things actually turned out better than what Troy could've hoped for. Now he had to pray they wouldn't regret it later.</p>
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<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Chapter 34</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>31</p><p>He waited until after everyone in his house was asleep before he slipped back out into Limbo. He'd had to put on a brave face for his parents, who had been quietly fussing over him for being back late. He was just thankful his physical cuts and bruises had disappeared, otherwise they would never have let him leave the house again. He kept the bandages hidden and told them he was with Troy all day, going to bed as soon as he could to avoid any further questions. He waited a few hours, made sure everyone had gone to bed and was asleep, and then phased out of this dimension into Limbo to go for a walk.</p><p>He took his time making his way across the desolate landscape, searching for the entrance to the fortress. Packs of Soulless stalked around him, careful not to get close. He paid them no heed. His mind was somewhere else. It was several years ago, reliving his time in school, reliving the memories of Joseph Stoke. Every step filled him with rage and pain and frustration. Every name he was called, confrontation they had, every argument, fight, disagreement, every joke demeaning Troy or Mira or his parents or himself, every time he mocked them or made fun of them or humiliated them…</p><p><em>Why didn't he tell me!</em> Jack thought, lashing out at the nearest wall punching a hole into the grey brick. The hollow building shook under the impact, falling apart into rubble as Jack continued onwards. <em>He should've told me.</em></p><p>He wanted to be angry at Troy, but he understood why he didn't. He knew if Jack found out Joseph would be at the drinks night he wouldn't go, so he just asked him to come with friends. Now Jack had said yes and he was left with a choice. Either he doesn't go, which would mean Jack has to go back on his word (when he makes a promise or an agreement he always tries to uphold it) or follow through with the night out and hope he and Joseph could be civil and get along. But he couldn't see that happening. Joseph hasn't changed at all and Jack wasn't ready to forgive and forget.</p><p>
  <em>What am I going to do?</em>
</p><p>He needed time to think, so he came back to the fortress. Somewhere safe and peaceful to gather his thoughts. He stepped through the gateway and crossed into the pocket realm of the Well of Souls, following the path up to the front entrance where the doors swung open for him. He didn't need to worry about the maze, he knew the corridors would shift around him to keep him on track. He passed the alcove opening to the observation deck, looking out to see Azrael at the throne keeping watch on the multiverse. He moved on before he noticed he was there. He didn't fancy getting a lecture from the Angel of Death tonight. It's not like he could advise him on mortal matters.</p><p>He journeyed through the corridors, passing by the intimidating statues that stood sentry inside the obsidian walls. He looked up at them. They didn't seen scary anymore, not like when he was first in this place and they were hunting him. Now they were just statues. Solid stone and silent statues. Not threatening at all.</p><p>He walked further, pausing by a door where a faint yellow glow leaked through a tiny gap. It was Freya's room. He peeked inside, briefly contemplating talking to her about his predicament. She was always there to listen, whether she could help or not is a different matter. But she would try. But when he peeked through the gap he found her in bed sound asleep, her wings folded around her keeping her warm, the single candle casting the glow throughout the room. She looked peaceful. He didn't want to disturb her, using the brand on his palm to snuff out the light as he quietly pulled the door closed.</p><p>He pressed on and eventually found his way to his own bedroom, the walls still bare and empty with nothing on the night stand or in the wardrobe. He made a note to find something to decorate the place, maybe even store a spare set of clothes in here in case he stays over more often or needs to clean up after another fight. He walked over to the balcony, the glass window sliding open so he could lean against the stone banister. It was waist high, no danger of tripping over. He crossed his arms and looked out into the colourful void of the multiverse. It was beautiful, better than looking at the stars back home. He could see everything, every galaxy and dimension and shooting star or comet or swirling universe. It kept changing before his eyes like a swirling watercolour. And below the fortress the Well of Souls spun lazily, drawing in the essence of life and death to be reborn anew. He took a deep breath and wished, not for the first time, that he could stay here forever. It was calm here.</p><p>The only downside was he had no one else to share this view with. For a second he sensed a presence at his side, his heart skipping as he mind convinced him it was Kassie, the girl of his dreams, standing by his side looking out at the stars with her sparkling grey eyes and her incredible smile. But then he looked across and she was gone. It was just him. He sighed disappointed, turning around to rest on the banister crossing his arms. When was the last time he spoke to Kassie? The day he came back from the dead, just before he woke up from his coma. He visited her at her apartment and asked her to be patient, telling her one day he'll explain everything to her. <em>How can I explain any of this?</em></p><p>As he opened his eyes, casting his gaze around the dark empty bedroom, he saw it wasn't quite empty. One object sat by the window leaning against the grey wall, its oak shaft still as it's sharp metal blade reflected the glittering multiverse. As Jack stared at it the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, the energy passing between them electrifying the air. He'd forgotten it was here, brought back with him after the fight with Stoke. He cautiously walked forward, reaching down to pick up the scythe by the thick oak handle. It felt heavy. Too heavy. Yet when he needed it there it was, just it had been back in Derby fighting Marchosias.</p><p><em>This scythe only answers the call of a reaper</em>, Marcus had told him just before he passed on. It was his by right.</p><p>He stood in the middle of his room, the scythe in his hands, its weight almost unbearable as it hummed with power and magic. It was supposed to be a part of him now, but Jack felt it resisting. <em>Or was he resisting? </em>Whichever way it was, he knew they didn't belong together. He carried it through the fortress back to the big ornate room that was Marcus Blake's, immediately setting the weapon down on the empty mattress where the old man used to reside. It remained in place, the humming falling silent content. It would wait for it to be called once more.</p><p>Jack turned away from the scythe, releasing a relived breath before coming face to face with the crime board they kept intact. Marcus' last case, his own murder. A grainy photograph of the old man sat in the middle of the board, his wrinkled angular features staring back through narrow black eyes, grey hair and beard framing his face. He wore a trench coat in this photo, dull brown and dirty. He looked back accusingly and Jack could feel his cold gaze.</p><p>"I'm sorry" he said quietly, looking at all the dead ends and false leads they had exhausted trying to figure out who killed him. But he wasn't talking about their failure to find the culprit, who still threatens Jack's safety as the only being in history to kill the Grim Reaper. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm not ready" he told him, glancing back at the scythe on the bed. He wasn't ready to wield that weapon permanently. Holding it meant committing to every responsibility the Grim Reaper has to creation, and he wasn't ready to commit yet. He didn't think he deserved the mantle. He knew Azrael didn't think he deserved it. Freya wants him to be. But he wasn't the reaper they needed. "I'm not the reaper everyone needs."</p><p>
  <em>Maybe you're not.</em>
</p><p>His eyes snapped open all of a sudden, his head whipping around searching the room frantically. He was used to talking to himself and sometimes manifesting voices to talk back in his head. But this voice wasn't in his head. It sounded real.</p><p>He spun around on the spot until he caught his reflection in the window, his frantic face staring back. But when he peered closer the reflection changed, his dark brown hair turning grey as his features became sharp, and his eyes narrowed and black staring back at him. Jack stumbled back in shock as found himself staring at a ghost.</p><p><em>Maybe you're not the Grim Reaper we need</em>, Marcus Blake told him. <em>But you're all we've got.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>https://www.pwpresents.co.uk/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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